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lilac-5ky · 2 years

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Dating Joui-era Takasugi Headcanons

A/N: It’s that time of the year when people want to feel a bit cozy and they write Christmas headcanons and all that jazz. BUT Joui-era Shinsuke is what makes me feel all cozy, and so, instead of Christmas headcanons I’ll opt for this :3 (unless y’all want me to actually write a christmas special with him LMAO sounds wacky af)

Warning: It's late. Idk what I've written. Random delirious thoughts I'm afraid. and also it gets a bit SMUTTY with the details

Let’s start with the period of “crushing” and namely “crushing” from his side. Chances are Takasugi had his eyes on you long before he decided to make a move. Something about being on war, something about being a tsundere, something about knowing that if he shows interest then Gin will DEFINITELY force his way in to get on his nerves; all those reasons were enough to make him reluctant.

He thought that crushes were like the common flu. Terrible at first, but it will go away if you ignore it. Eventually. Some day. Oh well.

Months have gone by and you are still living rent-free in his mind. Even when they are stationed far away, he can’t stop thinking about you and hopes he gets to outlive one more battle, just to see your face again.

He is always on the lookout for news about you. Whenever someone mentions your name, or anything that remotely resembles the first syllable of it, his ears perk up. He wants to know you are safe and doing well, but more importantly, he wants to hear that you are still not involved with anyone and won't be until the day he makes it back. Because, secretly, he hopes that when that day comes, he'll get to make you his.

Once, you sent him a letter. Nothing memorable or grandiose. Just you congratulating him on a victory, wishing a safe return and telling him you'll be waiting to see him soon. He never told you, but he treasured that letter, so much that he carried it inside his vest everywhere he went. The content itself wasn't as important, but the fact that you were thinking about him was all the motivation he needed.

At some point, he might start to write back. He’ll talk about the places they see, the fights they win, the petty arguments between Gintoki and him, how Tatsuma tried to buy out an entire red light district and how Zura rejected the advances of a general’s wife for a widow.

He mostly tries to keep his letters lighthearted, presenting you with the pretty side of things. He keeps the real ugliness of war to himself, and doesn’t really vent about his struggles. All he wants is to be close to you, but not too close as to be vulnerable. Not yet, at least.

I’d imagine him indirectly suggesting that some day you revisit certain places together. It’s more of a promise to himself, than an actual suggestion, hoping that one day he can actually deliver on that.

One would expect that when he finally comes back, he’d start interacting more with you and open up. WRONG. He reverts to his quiet and stoic self, acting as if you are no more than an acquaintance. It’s not that he isn’t interested. He simply prefers to let his eyes do the talking, when in company of the others.

If you catch him looking, he doesn’t immediately look away. He loves watching you and he loves how every time your eyes cross, you seem more flustered than before. The sight alone is enough to make him smile, that soft and nearly innocent smile he reserves for you exclusively.

I actually have this scenario in my head that involves camping around the fire with Joui 4. There’s laughing, there’s drinking and there’s talking, and during the entirety of it, you keep gawking at one another (lowkey eye-fucking one another OOPS) until everyone else falls asleep. When that happens, you sit side by side, Shinsuke adding more wood to the fire while you snuggle up to him, resting your head against his shoulder. A very warm, quiet and intimate moment you share together.

At this point, everyone knows something’s going on between you two, and naturally, they start to mess around by calling you “chibi’s girlfriend”. By “they” I most definitely mean Gintoki, though Zura and Tatsuma make sure to contribute with a chuckle. Shinsuke HATES this kind of jokes and is quick to dispute their claims, which in return leads to them suggesting they should get it on with you instead, considering how you’re single and all.

Gintoki because “How could a shrimp ever please you with his tiny shrimp dick”, Tatsuma because “bRoS beFOrE hOEs” and Katsura because… actually Katsura is the one who’s least likely to say that. Unless you are a widow. (auto correct made it window at first and I died at the idea of being window-sexual)

The jokes soon lose their momentum, and become sort of this daily routine he chooses to ignore. That is when it’s just the four of them. However, if Gintoki dares bring them up in your presence, then Shinsuke loses all self restraint and attempt to murder him by repeatedly stomping on his head, saying something along the lines of “You don’t need to carry an empty shell on your shoulders if you’re never gonna use it”

The only consolation is that you found his reaction so entertaining that you burst into laughter. Not at Gintoki’s attempted murder, but at Shinsuke’s adorable grumpy expressions.

When it’s just the two of you, Shinsuke feels much more at ease. He’ll probably offer to accompany you to places or join in on a task, considering how rare it is to spend some quality time together. Long walks through the woods, hitting up convenience stores miles away from the camp and Gintoki , “accidentally” hitting up all sorts of romantic hidden spots is definitely his thing.

He wants to thoroughly get to know you, and there’s no better way than sharing conversations without any disruptions. You can really talk to him about everything and he’ll listen without complaints, though expect him to tease you at any given time. It’s his way of flirting, and even if he calls you stupid, it’s just a term of endearment to him. When he is alone with you, he gets to forget all about warfare and tactics, becoming just a regular boy courting the girl he likes.

Honestly, even after all that, don’t expect a confession from him. He’ll either force you to say it yourself, or muster up the courage to straight up kiss you when the moment feels right. Going with the first one, he’ll insist to show you his most charming self until you can no longer exist around him without acting like a complete mess. That is when you blurt to him that you can’t wait for this war to be over, which has him all smirking and asking you what for. He really wants to hear you say it.

However, supposing that things don’t really go his way then he’ll be forced to make a move. He’d find an excuse to get you far away from everyone else, and when it’s clear, he’ll lean forward and press his lips against yours. He is not very experienced with romance. Correction: He is not experienced with romance AT ALL. For him to kiss you, it means that he likes you so much that his impulse takes over and he can’t help it anymore.

The kiss itself is forced, but oddly hesitant. It’s as if his eyes seek confirmation in yours, and when your lips answer him back instead, then you know it’s game over. In the blink of an eye, he has you pressed against his body, gloved fingers studying over the details of your face, hoping to somehow imprint the softness of your skin upon his pads. He is firm and intense, but gentle in a way that has you completely melting into his touch. That’s when both of you inaudibly decided that you won’t wait for war to decide your outcome.

Dates with him aren’t exactly dates in the traditional sense. Between relocating, battling and keeping your relationship a secret, he doesn’t have much time to take you out on fancy dates, but you knew that before mixing it up with him. Things will remain unchanged; secret meetups in the dead of night, strolling around stranded beaches and nearby woods, or, if he’s daring enough, his tent. What does change is the quality of said dates. (wink wink)

Like I said, he spends a lot of time away from you. Even when they go to Yoshiwara, he isn’t touching any woman because he can’t think of another woman the way he thinks about you. He wants you and you want him, and it doesn’t take long for things to boil over.

But let’s get more specific. If you find yourselves in the forest by the camp, then he most certainly has you back against a tree, knees around his waist, slowly thrusting into you with a hand over your mouth to muffle all sounds. It’s risky and anyone could spot you, but that’s what makes it even more fun. Sometimes he can’t help but groan against your ear, letting you know just how good you make him feel, right before replacing his hand gets with his lips. Deep kisses turn sloppy in between lovely grins and quiet chuckles, till you both climax as one.

When it’s not for a quickie, and especially for the first time, he’ll make an effort by either bringing you into his tent or taking you to the sea. It’s not so much about the place itself, but about how he’d much rather have you spend the night lying in his arms. It doesn’t matter how bleak and grim reality is. On those nights when the world quiets down, he really feels as if he has a chance of winning. As if by next dawn, the war will come to an end and he won’t ever need to say goodbye to you again.

Lastly, speaking about goodbyes. It becomes a habit between you to make stupid pinky promises about things. It can be something as silly as “I pinky swear to bring you a croquette sandwich tomorrow”, or something as profound as “I pinky swear I’ll come back alive”. He doesn’t want to make promises he can’t honor, but at the same time these promises bring comfort to you both. No matter how silly, a promise is about the future and as long as there is something that binds you to a shared future, then you have nothing to fear.

A/N: Sigh, you can’t tell me that Shinsuke in love isn’t a huge romantic. He might be a bit too cynic and sharp tongued at times, but that doesn’t prevent him from being an actual sweetheart. Plus, back then was when he was happiest. He’d be free to joke around and share a laugh without much guilt, and he’d be far more susceptible to falling in love T-T

#Takasugi Shinsuke #gintama #gintama fanfiction #gintama imagine #shinsuke <3 #gintama oneshot #gintama headcanons #Takasugi Headcanons #joui war Takasugi #joui war Headcanons #takasugi imagine #takasugi fanfiction #takasugi shinsuke x reader #takasugi gintama #takasugi x reader #gintoki x takasugi

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biscuitbakerbecca · 5 months

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Jared Kleinman for the character asks :)

Favorite Thing About Them

Jared is so bad at communicating he reminds me a lot of myself. I have ODD so it’s a little different, but the man is an asshole in the best way possible. He is petty and gives off angry cat energy in both fandom aspects and canon. Also I appreciate that he never acted against Evan even when he had the opportunity and reason to do so, he threatened it but he kept his mouth shut. Real friend right there <3 (I could tell everyone everything! Okay great! You go ahead! Do that! Tell everyone how you helped write emails pretending to be a kid who killed himself! Fuck you Evan!)

Least Favorite Thing About Them

He doesn’t have enough screen time/show time. People mischaracterize him because his entire character is shoved into as little time as possible. I know I just said that I love how he’s an asshole but he’s more than an asshole. He’s so clearly lonely and more than just an angry kid. At least in the book they made him “hot” in the end but the show and movie pretty much get rid of him come act two

Favorite Line

Kinky!

Just kidding

Asshole!

Okay okay for real this time

Yeah I hate to tell you this Evan, but you may have already perjured yourself.

Isn’t that only when you’re under oath? Like in a courtroom?

Well weren’t you under oath? In a way?

No.

Or from the movie (since I view them as different canons)

Connor took a letter from me. It was an assignment for my therapist.

Ew.

(I’d offer a different line but Jared doesn’t have that many)

BROTP

Jared and Zoe friendship!!! They hate each other they’re best friends they get drunk and cry together!!

Another excerpt of my own writing that explains this. Again my writing quality has gone up since this but oh well:

Connor rolled his eyes, "I'm saying that Evan will always be there, okay? You are so fucking stubborn, and I'm trying to be nice and make you feel better, just say thank you like a decent human being."

"You just made me feel shitty."

Connor threw his hands up, "Fuck! You're impossible!"

Zoe's voice screeched from below, "FUCK OFF! HE IS MY BEST FRIEND!"

— I don’t know what I want, but I need you. Chapter 12

OTP

Either kleinsen or kleinphy. They both have potential. All my kleinsen fics are really fluffy (soulmates, hurt/comfort, etc) and my kleinphy fics are like…rough and angsty (teen parenthood, child abuse, etc) I like both equally, but what I want to read depends on the content I’m looking for as shown by my own writing style

NOTP

Nothing icky like the parents being involved obviously, otherwise Jared/Zoe fics just don’t feel right. Jared is gay. Like he has to be. The book tried telling me he liked boobs and I know Val Emmich lied. Evan was simping at the end for a reason. Jared doesn’t even have to like Evan the man is still gay. Best part of the movie but dear god at what cost? (I did like the movie I swear)

Random Headcannon

Jared has two moms, or his mother is bisexual. I tried writing him with straight parents and every single time it feels kind of wrong

Also he has a cat. Her name is Mayonnaise. Mayo for short.

Unpopular Opinion

Idk if this is unpopular or not but I’m glad they cut Goin’ Viral. It only pushes the he’s an asshole idea and even though I love the song it wouldn’t have helped his characterization. I would have liked for them to properly record the song when they released the deluxe album but apparently Disappear Pt. 2: the duet version was more important.

Also Jared Goldsmith was my favorite Jared actor other than Will Roland. Nothing can beat the Will Roland vibes

Book Jared shouldn’t have ditched his glasses and got buff, they made him too powerful. Evan couldn’t help but fall for him. Let him stay as he is don’t make him conventionally attractive!

Song I Associate With Them

Jared is such a complicated guy. His feelings are deep. He’s cringy but free. I haven’t thought about this in a while hang on…

I imagine that Jared is a pop girlie and this gives the desperate for attention vibes that I usually associate with him

And as for his inherently cringey vibes that I usually give him…

I’m not sorry

Favorite Picture Of Them

Again, we have options…

#dear evan hansen #deh #asks answered #Jared Kleinman

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xinnabon · 2 years

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WRITE ME LETTERS.

# long distance relationship yelan x fem!reader [MODERN AU]

taking in requests! thanks!

.CW content is all safe!

.SUM you as someone who manages her own business, you tend to have trouble selling your products for the store, but with your girlfriend yelan, maybe things will go smoothly as it goes.

a/n: I REVIVE FROM MY VERY SHORT HIATUS BECAUSE I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE-- HELLO. I'M HERE TO MAKE CHAOS AND I SAY I AM BOOMING WITH LESBIAN ENERGY. requested by a friend again but it was months ago. TRUMPEEEETTT!!!!!!!! ROLL CALL OUR SWEET LESBIANS!!!!!!!!!!!!! YA THERE??!? also i really don't mind what gender is reading this right now. go crazy on my blog account then.

(play song nyaww. i think its sweet.)

work. sales weren't as good as you thought it would be. first, your business was sky rocket for a few weeks but then some other type of business pulled up. you needed to refresh your mind... create new ideas, but what's more?

7 missed calls...? god, from yelan too. you didn't really want to handle anything but you were sure that you needed to rant things out. if you didn't, maybe you'd break down to the point you don't know what to do. business and paying up for house and electricity bills was only to think about. if only, you can be selfish for one day. no. you can keep it in anyway. at least for a bit longer.

you turned off your phone and let the mattress consume you. you just wanted to be alone for once. who cares what others think, right? but either way, you just needed time to process all over on what's happening, what's next, what will you do. why does life have to be so hard to take over. even you think the saying that goes, "balance your life. have some fun and work at the same time" is absolute bullshit.

you can already imagine yelan worried for you. huh. must be normal to worry if people that is rather "valuable" to you like that. no. just let the world aside and pass time.

you liked yelan's company. you two met a while back in highschool but pretty much it was long-distance. just like now. you were assigned to be pen pals with someone from some other country besides your own. sure was sorta needed for research but of course you two were supposed to be the same age. oh how you wanted to go back. probably you don't know what to choose. either live your highschool life with endless studying and a bunch of missed assessments that are past due or stick with a business that was a success at first but eventually got taken by someone else's spotlight. it's frustrating just thinking about it. past, present, or even the future life you hopefully look forward for might take even a worse form.

so sweet... loving... ah. where did that go.

light faint. eyes ever shut tight. let go. just let go.

mm. 2 days. you haven't been showing up on work just because to rattle out some ideas. pretty sure the others can understand. throwing a piece of paper that is crumpled every time you change your mind about this over and over again. you could've just thought about this thoroughly but maybe you just had way too much high-expectations. you already have your own next-door some random store seller competing with you. geez.

you've been ignoring interactions and catching attention to yourself for a while. give in? no. not yet. you lay back and fluttered your eyes lightly shut as you carry on away to think it over from there. maybe you need to attract your clients more with designs? better up the products? make the prices fair? well. the idea itself is great but the context inside each and every one of them just couldn't rattle out of yourself. you just want things to be finally settled.

door is ringing. door is ringing? you get up from the lousy position you were in and head straight to the front door. you just finished ordering some food at least... 5 minutes ago. what kind of fucking food delivery service is that--

"yelan?"

fuck. why is she here. did she really have to buy a ticket all the way here? you look like a mess so far with her all carrying a suitcase and... a plush? right. she did said a while back that she'll ship it in to your house but sure is giving it to you in person.

"i know you're having some time. relax. think about it first then we'll talk. i, uh... didn't really tell you i'd be coming over but i'm sure you needed the company."

you slightly nod and let her inside. help her unpack, ate the food you ordered after 20 minutes of waiting, but really, the atmosphere wasn't... quite the best just like her last visits. showing her to your room to sleep comfortably and lay with her. looking at her with the A/C up and running. eyebags were already on your eyes. she doesn't want to assume what happened but really, whatever happened is what happened but it really matters when its to you. of course it is.

"i'm. not up for conversation right now. it's just... the business that i'm working on isn't doing the slightest bit of good."

yelan fiddles with your fingers. maybe she already had it figured out. she'd like it if you tell about it herself but what's the point in pressuring you? her hand running through your hair and signs you on over to go against her. you were cold. your hands were gripping tightly as you shake.

so far... she isn't asking so much what happened. you're sure she's worried but either way, you have someone to understand you need time to build up to entrust something like this matter to her. even to make you realize yourself that you aren't alone on this. breathe. and let go all of the disgraceful thoughts. nothing to disturb you two. you two alone. its you and yelan in your own world. leave it aside.

i will not ask you where you came from.

i will not ask you, neither should you.

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips.

we should just kiss like real people do.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x fem!reader #yelan #yelan gi #yelan genshin impact #yelan x fem!reader #fem!reader #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin comfort #xinniereaders

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annaslibraryy · 1 year

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Why Would a Billionaire Leave His Entire Fortune to a Random Orphan? - The Inheritance Games Review

Trending all over social media at the moment, The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes is the ideal mystery novel. Although it's 90+ chapters may look daunting, they are short (thank god) and keep you hanging on the edge of your seat (great for those of us who have short attention spans). Each chapter reveals a new piece of the puzzle that makes up The Inheritance Games and it's seemingly impossible not to get absorbed in the story.

The book follows the life of Avery Grambs, a teenager who is incredibly intelligent, witty and wise beyond her years, whose entire life is uprooted and moved to another state when the late billionaire, Tobias Hawthorne, leaves his fortune to her. Except, this man is a mystery to Avery...she doesn't know who he is. The will specifies a number of odd requirements. One being that Avery must spend at least one year in Hawthorne House, the family manor, and that she must allow Tobias' disinherited family to live there.

A whirlwind ensues as the Hawthorne family and the outside world try to figure out why she was chosen over everyone else. Using hints from Tobias' will and letters to her and his family, she quickly becomes entangled in the mystery. It's not difficult to get swept up in Avery's journey which definitely makes the book a page turner. Although the book is heavily plot focused, the world building was quite beautiful. For example, as Avery begins to explore Hawthorne House, she's always discovering something new. Whether it's a room she didn't know existed or a code/riddle of some sort, there's always more than what meets the eye.

Each character had their own plot, backstory and were certainly well thought out. Every character mentioned has relevance to the story. I enjoyed how Avery interacted with the boys. They were an important part of the story, and I could have read chapters solely from their perspective because they were written so well. Though it's difficult to know for certain who you can and cannot trust in a book like this, I found each boy charming (especially Jameson 😍). As well as this, Avery's character was definitely one I enjoyed reading about. Usually, I'm not a fan of female characters whose only attributes are that she's intelligent and pretty, but there was much more to Avery than what I originally thought. I mean she has flaws. Literal flaws that real people have!! It's difficult to find characters that feel like real people.

To clarify: nothing you read in The Inheritance Games is a mistake. Everything has a meaning and is relevant to the story.

I was so wrapped up in the story and how it progressed, that by the end, even with all of my questions, I was so thrilled just to have experienced it and I was content with the open-ended conclusion. The ending just filled me with more questions and motivation to move onto the sequel; The Hawthorne Legacy.

The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes is what I would call a literary masterpiece. With the diverse ensemble of characters, each riddle that needed deciphering, and Barnes' talent for writing added further to my enjoyment of the story. With the mystery surrounding Tobias Hawthorne's demise, how it affects Avery's life along with the rest of the Hawthorne relatives, and the suspense behind the entire novel, I'd definitely say this book is a must read and an easy 5 star read.

Happy reading!

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blnk338 · 1 year

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heyyy so i’m back with more random late night thoughts i am so sorry except that i’m not anyways

okay okay okay sooo since roach is (selectively??) mute he uses BSL and ASL to communicate. but now that he and rigo are exploring each other’s bodies talking and being cutie patooties together, i’d assume that roach like. still communicates non verbally and signs. soooo like how much ASL/BSL does rigo know?? prolly not much BSL i’d assume bc he’s american 🦅🦅🦅 so like could we possibly get a lil scene or blurb or mention where roach is kind of teaching it to him or something?? bc that would literally be so cute IDK 👀👀 IM JUST SAYING QUEEN you do you. we’ll eat that shit up anyways 😌😌

killing me with this ask, anon, truly

rigo's really just hardly getting by, a lot of what he does is read roach's fingersigning and is slowly learning ASL from both reaper and roach

and for you, just for you (and all my other tumblr followers), i will give you a sneak peak at an unedited snippet of c25...

Third time. This is the third time Rigo spelled his name with a 'q' instead of an 'r'. With time to kill between missions, Roach and Rigo made it their shared goal to fully get the former into the saddle, with the simplest of ASL. They'd been doing really well with texts and scribbles on scratch paper (or important documents, but were Price and Gallagher gonna care? Probably not...) But unlike Reaper, who seemed to pick up both ASL and BSL like it was nothing, her counterpart was struggling a lot more. They'd gone over easy stuff like "hello," "hungry," "bitch," "bacon," and "dick," but it was kind of important for Rigo to know his own name.

Gary inhaled slowly, holding his breath for a second before the Californian sheepishly grinned before him. "Fuck up again?" The Brit shook his head and held up his hands, this time much slower than the last, spelling out the shortened name. "R," "I," "G," "O," before his hands settled. He watched as the American's hands were brought up, a determined frown across his features while the green-eyed man sat with a content look.

Rigo was cute, to say the least. Sun-kissed sepia skin with a million and one freckles, big brown doe eyes that glittered when he looked over at Gary, wavy deep-brown-nearly-black hair cut into a mullet that swept around his cheeks in the most handsome of ways, a big toothy grin to match his harmonious laugh-- not to mention how touchy he was-- yet in a way that understood boundaries. Their first introduction was polite, proper, though, without any physical touch. Standing awkwardly on either side of Laswell, they waited for the rest of the 141 to unload off the plane. The blonde woman had translated a quick back and forth between them, but otherwise, Gary noticed he stayed pretty quiet. That was until Reaper had gotten more comfortable. It appeared that when she warmed up to the team, he did too.

Suddenly, Rigo was everywhere. Usually at his friend's hip, but gradually, he was there helping with unloading, eating with the team, joining in on the post-mission barrack parties (Scrabble and scary movies), and even sitting closer to Roach. Gary'd noticed that the guy would occasionally catch his eye, sending him a sweet smile, before going back to jabbing at Reaper, who he'd sometimes call "Grim," "pendejo," or "puta" (whatever that meant). After a short while, Rigo was starting to greet him with half-hugs, claps on the shoulder, and even reaching over to pick a piece of dust or dirt off Gary's goggles. Maybe it was because he was always around Reaper, or perhaps he was just that nice, but it never seemed to bother him that he was always wearing some sort of covering.

Rigo started to sign "R," crossing the wrong finger over the other, stopping to laugh at his own silliness, then returning to signing the correct "R." Shit, he was really nice to look at. Knees touching on Roach's room's carpet, the only light being the shitty lamp in the corner, Gary watched him form the other letters. For some reason, every time the Californian looked up, it was like he was scanning the exposed features of the Brit. Without goggles, his beautiful eyes could be shown to the world, and boy, did Rigo absolutely relish in that.

On the final letter, "O," Rigo mimicked a handjob motion, giggling again as Gary shoved him a little. Instinct suddenly had him grabbing Rigo's hand, forcing his fingers to pause and move into an 'o' shape. There was a pause, a hitch in Rigo's breath, as they both realized how little space there was between their faces. Quiet and still was the world around them for that moment.

Without pulling away, his voice hardly above a whisper, Rigo asked Gary something that'd been itching at the back of his mind for quite some time now. "Hey, do you know, um," he swallowed, he was cute when he was nervous. "What's the sign for..." Slowly, Rigo's hand rose again. "K," "I," "S--"

Before he could even finish the second 's,' Gary'd pulled down the mask, grabbed his face, and slammed their lips together. The American jumped, squeaking a little in surprise, but melted into his touch, hands dropping to hold Gary's waist. Gary felt Rigo press forward, moving easily together, humming into the paler man. Lips breaking from his bright smile, finally pulling back and catching their breaths, they simply basked in one another's light. Shoulders rising and falling quickly, eyes locked onto each other, studying each other's features for just another few seconds before the American cut back in. "I don't think I understood that fully," he purred, lips curling up to crinkle his eyes. "Mind showing me again?"

#garigo #rigoroach #asks #rwys asks #rwys rigo #rwys roach

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moultinmush · 8 months

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Part 2# A Fandom Worse Than It's Content: Server Raids & Targeted Harassment

I'd wake up the next morning to see I'd been kicked from the Reitanna fan server, and wouldn't know what had happened until informed by another fan. Someone by the tag of ''Denoriel'' Would make a server for the fans to flock to after the Kiwi Farms raid.

This is where a main group would develop: Mandi, the original server owner who largy was respected and well trusted. Yums, a person many genuinely liked and I am sure is still a friend of Mandi's.

There would also be Nothingisscary (Otherwise known as Scary.) He like myself, was eager to discover who was behind the raid. There was also his future boyfriend (Now Ex) Possum, who I am pretty sure was just there to point and laugh at everyone. And last, but not least—Cam, otherwise known as ''Powercord'' He more so passively floated through later events.

(Screenshot from Denoriels server)

I'd joined the new server, but didn't like the sound of it. It wasn't being run by Mandi, and that had ticked me of—So I made the sour mistake of making my own server.

The thought process had been I'd be in control of who was and wasn't there, and I'd gotten it into my head somehow I'd be better at keeping whoever was raiding us out—If only i'd had the sense to stop there and then, and deleted the damned thing. Instead of leaving and never speaking to that group again, I'd announce my server on Denoriels own, and would soon after find her in my DMs.

IMPORTANT: Before you read the below screenshots, I am dyslexic. That will be made painfully apparent when you try and read these. I am also dyspraxic, which makes using a keypad very difficult for me—It's why you will see random letters in words.

Continuing on with the timeline: I'd been interviewing people in my DMs who wanted to join my server prior as well, and after my above conversation would receive a message from a ''MaximumRide'' I did not know them—I had a bad feeling, but they seemed to be around my age and I felt guilty.

In retrospect—I should've known Max was Denoriel because of how bad they are at pretending to be 14. But they knew I was 15, and likely that it wouldn't be that hard to fool me. And well they were right, so I let them into my server.

Often in the server we would have calls, of which ''Max'' would be in with a broken mic. They would record our conversations and upload them onto the Kiwi thread, although because they had absolutely nothing to do with Reitanna, they would be removed pretty quickly.

The below screenshot Denoriel decided to show on the board, was a conversation that happened after I'd been kicked from their server.

What is being referred to in the above was a plan to make a fake server to invite people to, so we could figure out who kept leaking stuff onto the Kiwi board. What we didn't know was Max was Denoriel, and that ''Crystal Pepsii'' on the kiwi form, was also Denoriel.

people were beginning to feel like rats dropped in a oil filled barrel—Infighting began, and it was ugly. Most were exhausted, and at a point where they wanted to remove themselves from the scenario completely. Emotions were already high from the first raid, so having information leaked like this had the group scared of what could come next.

Sadly for Denoriel, someone would leak their conversations. Bellow is evidence of them having been Crystal Pepsii and Max.

Now you may be wondering, where did I get these screenshots exactly? Well, do you remember Dank Memes?

Dank Memes was how I found out about the above at all. Unlike Denoriel, they knew this had gotten way out of hand and gone way too far. So out of mild guilt and some form of common decency, he spilled about what was really going on.

''Santana Apologist'' Wasn't someone Denoriel even knew, but they dumped their server ownership onto them as their last harra to cause some more ruckus. We will not be discussing Apologist, as the shear amount of harassment they experienced was, yeah. I've heard past this they continued to receive harassment, which deeply shames and disappoints me.

I wish this was where we ended, that Denoriel ended up being the only abuser in this situation. But this isn't a story of how at 15 I was bullied by a group of adults, but of where Reitannas haters came from. So we continue on, albeit painfully.

Next ->

#reitanna seishin #bullying tw

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snxxiao · 2 years

Text

pls help... i--- also the spacing is weird and I don’t know how to fix it >:<

discord mod! eren x twitch streamer! fem! reader x donator! armin

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, eren is kind of an incel, parasocial relationship with armin, toxic relationship with eren, eren is kind of the readers pimp, cussing, reader is called dumb a lot, webcam sex, fingering, m!masterbation, use of drugs (alcohol), singular mention of breeding and oral, bimbo! reader, overly trusting! reader, threesome (sort of), dom! eren, sub! reader, switch(?) armin, half edited, nothing too bad i dont think, please let me know if i missed anything!

dark content warning, pls be 18+ to read

Discord Moderator! Eren who found you when you first started streaming. He reached out first, of course, becoming one of the prominent voices in your chat. He found your personal socials, reaching out to you under the guise of helping you out with your account. He knew all the ins and outs that you simply weren’t aware of. He introduced you to discord, taught you how to set up your own server so you could interact with fans. He was such a gentleman too! Didn’t make you feel dumb at all when you were confused about something! He simply just helped you.

Or rather, maybe, he used your inexperience- your innocence against you.

Who could tell? You were too kind, looking past all of his weird remarks about your body. His creepy comments were probably just jokes anyway! This was probably just how friends talked to each other! You could trust him. You thought you could at least. Convinced yourself you could.

Of course, when you started to get more popular, and everything became too overwhelming he offered to become your moderator! He could help you with everything. You trusted him enough at that point either way. You were starting to feel like he was really your friend. It made you ecstatic! You could only imagine how hard it would be to make friends online, but you had Eren to help guide you the whole way. He was such a great guy.

You listened when he told you not to respond to the other streamers that reached out to you. They were just out for you, to use you. He would never use you. He cared about you. Of course he did.

He made you believe so, anyway, and that’s all that was really needed.

He had already caught the pretty little butterfly in his web, all he needed to do now was to make sure he was the only one to get to devour you for dinner. It was all you were really good for anyway, a cute little piece ass that was for him and him alone.

No one else.

Or so he thought, at least.

But that’s when something- someone decided to show up. Someone he wasn’t sure what to do with. He always knew what to do with people- you especially. How to get what he wanted out of them, but this guy... this guy was strange. Someone he could never understand. His ideals were too far out of reach for Eren’s scope of knowledge.

He had a boring name, just a bunch of letters and numbers. They tuned into your stream every night without fail. He never said anything in the chat, but his donations… they were… insane, really. Stream after stream it was hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars. The only times he actually said anything were to ask you about your personality, things you cared about, the occasional how was your day. Like he actually wanted to get to know you.

How could anyone actually give a shit about that?

Eren, your oh so loyal moderator, had no clue. As far as Eren was concerned you were only a pretty little doll for the world to look at. No one really gave a shit about anything other than how cute you were, how hot you looked on stream, how much your tits were out. As far as he was concerned your personality didn’t matter. It didn’t to him. So why did it to one random fucking simp in your chat?

One thing was clear to him though, he was going to milk this son of a bitch for all he was worth.

It started out simple, convincing you that having a private chat in your discord with the two of them just made sense! He was practically your sugar daddy; it would be helpful to get to know him better so he might donate to you more. When you told Eren that just felt icky to you, he brushed you off. Said that he knew better and to just trust him.

He couldn’t believe you were stupid enough to listen.

But then again, you were stupid enough to trust him already.

But maybe that’s why your fans loved you so much.

You were just plain dumb.

The conversations started simple enough… but eventually Eren moved to voice chatting, then private video game streams just for your top donator. All of course for a price. One that you didn’t know about. Behind the scenes Eren orchestrated everything. Your anonymous donator would send him money directly in order to have private chats with you, all while Eren pocketed everything behind the scenes.

When Eren first messaged Armin about the idea Armin was… nervous to say the least. He had never planned to get closer to you. He didn’t even really mean to find you! He was just bored after work one day, scrolling through his laptop when he found a link to one of your streams. It was pure curiosity and boredom that drove him to click it. The monotony of his daily life had been slowly wearing him down, but when you appeared on his screen so bright eyed and bushy tailed, he couldn’t help but become enamored.

Just your presence breathed the life back into him that he thought he had lost. He understood perfectly why so many people watched you. You were amazing. Too perfect for him, too perfect for this hellish world.

It wasn’t until he got drunk one night that he sent you his first donation. He was being pessimistic in the moment, existential about everything really. Why did anything matter, why were people so scared of death. So he asked you what your biggest fear was, the alcohol fueling his confidence in the moment. He remembered your answer like you just said it yesterday. He didn’t know how but through that one interaction made you made him feel like the only man that existed. The only one that truly mattered. Any depressing thoughts washed out of him just like that.

You had him hooked.

He had the money to spare, might as well spend it on something he cared about. Something that kept him happy. Something that kept him moving forward. The chats, the private streams, the donations had all been just so he could support you in the same way you had supported him. He didn’t mind.

That’s how he ended up in this situation. A message in his inbox asking if he wanted a private show. Webcams on both ends.

He was going to agree, he had to. It made him anxious to no end, but this was practically everything he could have wanted. The chance to talk to you face to face, to thank you for everything you’ve done for him. He knew he was slightly deluded to think anything would come from it, but he knew he just wanted to see you.

He would have to buy a nicer webcam. He wanted you to think well of him, even if it was just for a few minutes.

When the day finally came, he was a complete nervous wreck. He didn’t sleep at all the night before, but he tried to look his best. He wore one of his nice button downs and a pair of slacks. He got his hair done professionally and even wore cologne. He had no clue why; it wasn’t like you would actually see that much of him anyway. But alas, he sat by his laptop waiting for the call of his lifetime.

Yet, when it finally did connect, he was astonished- didn’t know what to think.

No one would if they were in the situation he was in.

Because there you were, sitting on who he could only presume to be your moderator, Eren’s lap in nothing but a sweater, your underwear, and thigh high socks. Your legs were spread wide as Eren slowly circled around your poor little clit with his fingers, eliciting the cutest little whimpers from you.

What was this? What was going on? What were you doing?

He gasped out your name, making your head turn towards the screen. Your face was flushed; you looked like a little bitch in heat, finger in your mouth trying to stop you from moaning. His pants quickly became much to tight; much too uncomfortable. He was shocked, nervous, had no clue what to do in the situation; but his eyes refused to leave the screen. This was something that could only happen in his dreams- literally.

He wasn’t processing things correctly, how could he be? He had no clue this was what the call was going to be like! This didn’t feel right, none of it did. But then he heard you moan. Your gorgeous little moan.

Suddenly things felt a lot more right.

Eren chuckled at your little display; it was cute. Both how you and Armin reacted. At least now Eren could prove to Armin, prove to the both of you that you were his to fuck. His to have, no one else’s. You were his whole to use as he pleased, and Armin would never have it. Poor little him, at least he would get a show out of it right?

It was time to get to the main event.

Soon he pushed your cute little pair of underwear to the side. It wasn’t even covering much at that point; your little cunt had already soaked most of it through. You were so sloppy, a lot more than Eren had expected. He that was okay, just meant it would be easier to fuck some sense into you. Maybe that was for another time.

You tried to shut your legs so the blonde couldn’t see; this was too embarrassing. When Eren first mentioned it to you he made it sound so pretty. Just a private little show for Armin, help you two get closer. You two could meet up so he could be in person to calm your nerves! He could give you rewards on camera for being good! But now that you saw what kind of show he was talking about… now… now you were unsure. You looked from the screen to Eren, for reassurance, for something, but alas, he just sighed and shook his head at you.

He was surprised you had any common sense at all.

Sure hadn’t seemed like it.

He easily spread your legs open again without sending a glance to you, not like you deserved his attention anyway and began to pull your underwear down your legs. You whined at him, used your arms to push against his hands but he held you back with one of his own. You were far too weak to actually do anything. Eren knew it. Soon your legs were spread once again, your dripping cunt on full display.

“C’mon pretty girl… Don’t be bad for me… Let him see you, yeah? All of you…” He mumbled, leaving wet kisses along your neck. “you don’t want to be bad, do you? You want this just as much as he does… Look at yourself…”

And that was really all you needed for him to convince you that it was okay. You trusted him, he would never, could never lead you astray. Plus, the way he kissed you felt so nice… he could make you feel nice. And Armin did deserve it… he did so much for you… he was your biggest fan. That deserved… something right? That was what Eren always told you anyway.

Eren had always made it too hard for you to think anyway.

His fingers slowly found your clit once again, the electric shock of the direct contact ran through your entire system. Your skin felt like it was being set ablaze in the cool crimson sky from a simple touch alone.

Being with someone like this, it was better than you ever could have expected. The fact was set in stone when your eyes met Armin’s crystal blue ones. The look on his face- it drove you completely crazy. Made your head go fuzzy. His flushed cheeks, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down, the look of pure bliss in his eyes all convinced you beyond reasonable doubt that this was more then okay. Better than okay, really.

Eren stared down at you with a bored expression; you were so easy. Such a silly little bimbo. He really couldn’t believe you were so easily bent to his will this whole time. It would be so much fun when he finally turned you into his fuck hole. But patience was a virtue. He knew all the waiting would be worth it in due time.

When he finally thrusted one of his fingers into your wet little hole, he was sure of it. Your walls clamped around his finger as you threw your head back, moaning out his name. You looked prettier than you ever had before. He knew this is what you were built for.

He would prove it to you soon enough.

Armin really couldn’t handle it anymore. It would be okay. It would be okay, right? He really didn’t care. He might not have another chance like this. He needed to engrain it in his brain forever. At that point he felt absolutely no shame in pulling down his pants, letting his cock spring free. His hand wrapped around it almost immediately, trying to imagine he was the one in that room with you. That he was the one making you feel so good.

That he was the one to make your eyes roll back, your nails to dig into his thighs instead of Erens’. That you could be his for real, and not just in his head. When you looked at him, saw what he was doing and weren’t grossed out he melted inside. You were okay with this; you were okay with him.

More than okay with, honestly. The sight of his beautiful cock in his hand, pumping up and down it had you drooling. You wished he was there. You wished you could suck it and make him feel good too, but right now you couldn’t. Eren must’ve taken note that your interest had moved to the screen, rather then on him. Where it should be.

He wanted it back.

First a second finger, then a third were thrust into without concern, giving you absolutely no time to adjust to the intrusion. Your brain went blank again, getting lost in the pleasure of him. Him.

Only him.

The knot in your stomach began to coil as his fingers sped up, his thumb finding your clit once again. If Eren thought you were sloppy before, you could only imagine what he was thinking now. You couldn’t think though. Couldn’t think past wanting his dick inside of you, breeding you so full of him. Maybe he would let Armin be there too, filling your mouth up so well. You would swallow for him like a good girl. You just knew you would.

But alas, Eren wouldn’t be so kind to give you that. Not for a long time anyway. Not until you devoted yourself to him and only him.

Your daydream was cut short when Eren finally hit that gummy spot inside you, the one that made your toes curl and your blood pressure rise. You knew you wouldn’t make it for very long, that coil was so so tight, you knew it was only a matter of time before it snapped. You wanted to tell him, you really did, but your whimpers, your moans, and every little cussword between made it almost impossible to. All you could do was look up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to just let you. Lucky for you, Eren could tell. He was almost proud of you for being able to hold on as long as you did.

“Go ahead pretty… just let it all out for me yeah? Show Armin just what he’s doing to you. He won't mind. Be my dirty little slut yeah?”

Finally, you let go. Letting that euphoric bliss wash over you in waves. Your eyes saw stars and you trembled in Eren’s tight grip. You swear that you had never felt better than you had in that moment. You never wanted it to end. Maybe if you were lucky, it wouldn’t.

As Armin watched you come undone, he swore it was the most beautiful sight in the world. Too beautiful, maybe. Beautiful enough to lead him into his own orgasmic bliss, shooting thick ropes of his cum onto his hand. He wished it was on your face, in your mouth, anywhere else really. He just wished he could be with you.

Eren sat there watching. Waiting. He saw the both of you panting, worn out from everything that just occurred. It was all going exactly according to his plan. Maybe next time Eren would let Armin watch as he took your virginity. If he paid the right price, of course.

Slowly, Armin began to recover. A lot faster than you. He wasn’t sure what to say or to do. He was still a tab bit lost in everything that just happened. He didn’t really know what to think. He searched the screen for the right answer, but only saw Eren smirking, your hand starting to palm him over his pants. Begging for more. Armin hoped he would get to see more too. He wanted to imagine it was him. Not Eren.

“I—” Armin started to say, hoping to break the ice, but was cut off with Eren directing his attention to him. Armin couldn’t comprehend how utterly small a look alone could make him feel. But he finally understood what a deer in the headlights felt like.

Eren wanted to laugh, he really did at how pathetic Armin was. But that would have been dumb. So all he did was smile. Smile and then…

Click.

You were gone.

next time... at least there was hope.

navi

taglist: @taixju

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the-lady-writes-what · 3 years

Text

A Birthday Card for Satoru

You give Satoru Gojo a birthday card since it’s his birthday. A platonic gesture because you felt bad for the asshole not having anyone to celebrate or remember his birthday with him. It didn’t mean anything more than that. At least it shouldn’t have. Which is going to be hard to use in order to explain how and why he’s rearranging your guts in a random office.

Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader (cis; pronouns she/her)

Content: oral (giving), titty fuck, “good girl,” face fucking, blindfold, rough sex, mild degradation (slut)

You hand him the plain envelope with a simple, “Here.”

“What’s this? A love letter? Y/N, you can just say it a loud. Nobody’s around to hear how you’ve been pining for me,” said Satoru.

“It’s a birthday card, ass. I felt bad for you because nobody told you ‘happy birthday’ or wants to spend time with you today. Don’t make it weird!”

“Ah, but you still like me enough to get me a card for my birthday!”

“That’s it! I’m taking it back!”

You reach for the envelope, but Satoru manages to pull you into a bear hug from which there’s no escape. His arms snake around you and rest at the small of your back. You’re squeezed tight against him. Abashed, you realize that he can probably feel everything, especially with how your breasts are pushed firmly against his torso.

“Just give me the damn birthday card, you pervert!”

“How can you give me a birthday card, but no present? Seems awfully rude, don’t you think, Y/N?”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you sighed.

“Come on, it’s my birthday. Don’t tell me you didn’t get me anything?”

“I got you a card and I promised myself that I wouldn’t kill you today. Isn’t that a present enough?”

Satoru lowered his face next to your ear. “There’s one thing that you can give me that won’t cost you a thing.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“I’ve always wondered what my cock would look like wrapped around your pretty lips,” he chuckled.

Powered by your anger and embarrassment at such a request, you pushed him off. Satoru held onto the birthday card. You turned your back to him deciding that your dignity wasn’t worth giving him what he wanted, even if he was joking.

“Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious. Haven’t you wondered what it looks like?”

You couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not. Satoru Gojo had been picking on you since your days as a student at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. It’d been innocent yet pestering at first. Once you were adults, Satoru was convinced you wanted to sleep with him. The man had a literal and figurative body count, and you weren’t keen on getting added to either list. But still, you wondered why women, and some men, flocked to Satoru like he was the incarnation of Eros or Kama* himself. You’d caught yourself from time to time wondering what about Satoru’s skills in bed to keep a list of partners crawling back for more. You teased the thought of finding out for yourself, but chickened out every time. Here he was, offering himself on a silver platter to satisfy your curiosity. The fact that Satoru would get to one-up you again was the cherry on top.

“Awfully confident. A lot of men talk about their game like they’ve been gifted Cupid’s dick or something. I guess that it’s all bravado,” you replied.

Satoru staggered back, clutching his chest, and feigning an injury. “Ouch. You know how to get to me.” He smirked. “But let’s say we prove it once and for all. You do as I say as my birthday present, and if I'm not good as I say I am, I'll leave you alone. For good. But if I win...”

“If you win,” you emphasized.

“When I win, you have to say that my cock is the best you’ve ever had and you can’t live without it. What’d you say?” Satoru held out his hand, hoping you would shake it.

The stakes weren’t too bad. At least, nobody you knew would overhear you say that in case you did lose. No matter, like you’d pass the chance to not only wipe that smug look off Satoru’s face, you could get him to stop teasing you. You stuck your hand out and shook his vigorously.

Satoru wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you behind a desk. He plopped himself down while you stood there, waiting for his commands. All you had to do was listen to him for a little while and when he lost, you never would have to speak to this man again. How hard could it be? Satoru thumbed the blindfold and peeled it off. You’d seen his eyes before, but you never saw them up close and personal. They were like perfect crystals with ever-changing colors shifting around. The lights were dim in this office, but Satoru’s eyes somehow still glowed and refracted light like a prism. And he still wore that stupid smug look on his face.

“Take off your top.”

You shrugged off your blazer and button-up. Without being asked, you unclipped your bra and let it fall off your shoulders. You felt Satoru’s eyes following the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

“Eager?” Satoru chuckled.

“N-No. I figured you were going to do something nasty, so I took it off to keep it from getting dirty.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” said Satoru. He leaned back into the chair, stroking the outline of the tent in his dark trousers. “Now, crawl over to me and unzip my pants.”

“You don’t want me to get naked?”

“Do you?”

“NO!”

“There’s plenty of time for that later, but for now, I want you to fulfill a little fantasy of mine. So, hop to it. On your hands and knees and crawl over to me, princess.”

You oblige him. You sank to your knees and started crawling towards him. You hated how your breasts swayed with your movement for Satoru’s viewing pleasure. Once you reached him, Satoru crooked his finger for you move even closer. You glared into his eyes as he cupped your chin while his other hand undid his pants. Satoru dragged down the zipper slowly, almost hypnotizing you with the sound. He rose slightly in the chair and shifted to pull down his pants and boxers to allow his cock to spring free. Your eyes stopped glaring for a second to gape at how hard and ready he already was, and neither of you touched each other.

Satoru stroked himself and tapped your bottom lip with the pinkish head of his cock. You stuck your tongue out to lick the tip and swallowed more of him down your throat. Satoru’s hand came down the back of your neck to help push his cock deeper down your throat.

“Look at you go,” Satoru snickered as he watched you take him and suck him off. “You’re a regular pro. Shit, you’re good!”

You worked his cock faster, stroking with your hand what you couldn’t take down your throat. You slobbered over his cock and made sure to lick the sensitive vein that made him flinch and buck his hips into your face. You swallowed his pre-cum. Satoru reached down and cupped your breasts. His longer slender fingers pinched, pulled, and teased your nipples until they were painfully stiff. You raised yourself on your knees and pressed Satoru’s cock between your breasts. You rubbed him down, palming yourself and tweaking your nipples in place of his. You peered up defiantly to find Satoru almost unfazed by your antics. Glaring, you stroked him faster with your breasts and sucked in your cheeks, taking him all the way down your throat.

“Good girl, good girl, good girl.” Satoru canted as he patted the top of your head, pushing it down ever so slightly.

Satoru bucked his hips against your face. He grabbed both sides of your head and held it still for him to fuck your mouth. Drool dribbled out of the corner of your mouth with how fast and hard he drove himself into your mouth. Satoru hissed and swore regardless of who might be able to hear. You pushed on his thighs, but Satoru was relentless. No matter your short-lived rebellion, you kept your mouth wide open for him to fuck. Your drool dribbled down the front of your neck and smeared on your boobs. Satoru pulled out roughly at the last minute just for you to catch some of his cum on your tongue. He used the rest to paint your chest white. The obscene, sticky substance splattered and Satoru left your jaws sore and used. Satoru swiped some up with two of his fingers and inserted them into your mouth. You licked and sucked his fingers clean. He repeated this gesture until most of the cum was cleaned off your chest. Then, Satoru took his blindfold and tied it over your eyes.

“Up you go!” He helped you to your feet.

Without your eyes, you were under his control. You felt slick between your thighs, even through the thick denim of your jeans. These were the next to go as Satoru unbuttoned your pants and yanked everything down to your ankles. You held unto his arms as you kicked off your shoes and stepped out of your clothes. You wailed as Satoru reached between your legs and shoved his fingers inside of you.

“You’re fucking soaked, Y/N-chan. Did you like when I fucked your tight little mouth?”

You whimpered under his touch. Satoru drove his fingers deeper, using his thumb to rub infinite circles on your clit. More and more of your cream spilled out. It lubed his fingers to reach deep inside and find that spongy part of your body that no toy could reach quite well as he did. Satoru curled his fingers and thrust in and out at a harsh pace. You spilled all over his hands and on the floor. Your back arched and your nails dug into his arms that supported you. You couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from your throat as Satoru pitched you headlong into orgasmic bliss.

“Good girl. Coming all over my fingers like a good little slut. What’s this? Did you just get tighter when I called you a slut?”

You shook your head, but you both knew the truth. Satoru had been teasing you for years. You could justify and say that it was your body’s natural reaction; you had no control over it. But deep down inside, you liked--no. You loved the sound of Satoru saying those foul things. That’s why you clenched around his fingers even as he pulled out.

In a flash, your back was pinned to the desk. A shuffle of clothing later, you felt Satoru’s hot skin graze against yours as he slipped between your legs. He wrapped your ankles behind his neck and drove his cock into your well-lubricated cunt.

“What the fuck? How you hard again?” You shouted. Human language was then quickly forgotten when Satoru started thrusting.

“I have better stamina than any man before me. And certainly after.” He gloated.

Blindfolded, your senses and nerve endings went haywire. Without seeing him drive his cock the furthest it could go inside your cunt, you felt him. Every inch of his cock turning your insides into mush. The thick veins rubbed your inner walls. It was like scratching a bad itch having him bury himself all the way in, pull out to the tip, and ram back in. Over and over and over...

Your nails dug into the wood of the desk which shuddered and rattled in time with Satoru’s cock rearranging your guts. You scraped at the desk for a chance of purchasing sanity and grounding, but found none. Satoru grabbed your hips to forcibly bring you along his cock. His hands bruised your hips while you tossed your head back and forth.

“You...should see...your...self now, Y/N. You looking so-so-so f-fucking good on my cock right now. H-Happy birthday to me, indeed!”

“S-Shut up!” You snarled before your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

*desire, wish, or longing. Found in Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jain literature, kama is the concept of sexual and sensual desire and longing. In Hinduism, kama is associated with Kamadeva, the god of human desire.

#Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk #Jujutsu Sorcerer #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #reader fic #reader smut #female reader #female (cis) reader #Satoru Gojo #x reader #Satoru Gojo x Reader #satoru gojo x female reader #satoru dojo x fem! reader #18+ only #no minors allowed #Minors DNI #Happy Birthday Satoru Gojo

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lesyasun · 3 years

Photo

A while ago I received an interesting question about game aesthetics. The person in that ask really struggles with downloading stuff and finding their own style. They asked me how I came up with what you see on my screenshots. Have you ever thought that you can recognize whose screenshot this is by just a quick glance? Is editing important in photoshop? How to take beautiful screenshots? Today let’s talk about how different one single game could be for each of us and what really makes this mysterious “sims aesthetics”.

EDIT: Sorry, it turned out to be huge with lots of random thoughts :D I hope at least one percent of these is useful!

NOTE: English is not my native language, I apologize for possible grammar or spelling mistakes. I tried my best in writing this!

Ok, let’s imagine that you’re a person who just obtained the sims game or just want a nice fresh start and demolished your download folder. (We all need fresh starts sometimes, right?) The struggle is that you have no idea which style you like the best. There are so many sims blogs. Everyone seems to enjoy what they post but you’re a little bit lost in that jungle. Don’t worry! I’ll try to guide you and share my thoughts.

STEP 1 Choose your general style

I roughly divide all sims blogs that I see on my dashboard into a couple of so-called styles. I’ve been doing it in my mind for ages. I like following different people and seeing diferent editing. None of them are better than others. I hope you understand that it’s just a matter of liking. Ok, here we go. Let me put this sorting hat on you :D

1. Realistic

Screenshot by @luchiatores

Perhaps, it’s the most important thing that you should decide for yourself. Wether you should use realistic textures in your game or you’d prefer to stick to more cartoonish maxis match ones. Why is it so important, to my mind? I like things that match. Just imagine game Witcher 3 where characters and surroundings are realistic. And now imagine Minecraft where things are pixelated. Both games are great, both games have certain beautiful styles. And now imagine Geralt hunting for monsters in a pixelated Minecraft swamp. A bit strange, isn’t it? :D The same applies to Sims. If you put a super realistic skintone on your sim and put a Maxis ponytail, that would probably look strange too. If you choose this style, just try to dig for a good quality content, start following simblrs in this style. Unfortunately, I’m not an expert when it comes to realistic content. So, try to drop an ask to someone whose realistic game you like. There are so many helpful people around in the sims community no matter what style they have :)

2. Trully Maxis Match

screenshot by @whattheskell

This is a complete opposite of a realistic style. I’ve always called people who use a lot of original maxis textures “trully maxis” :D If you can decorate a house without any custom content, if you like the way original hairstyles look, if you like Maxis clothes, you should go this way. From what I’ve spot after being so many years in the sims community, “trully” maxis simblr are so creative when it comes to storytelling. The stories that they write about either their sims/or maxis premades are so breathtaking. So much drama, so much fun. The only thing that I write about my screenshots is “Ok, this is my cat! Look, it can eat flowers and puke afterwardst! Yay! Cute”. If you choose this way, I can recommend you to check out @holleyberry, @didilysims or @moocha-muses. Obviously there are a lot more blogs that I follow. These people are just so sweet and helpful and they’re first who came to my mind.

3. Bright Maxis Matchery

screenshot by @muupi

This is where I refer myself to. This style is still Maxis but what stands out is the use of bright colours and saturated photoshopped pictures. Ah, my love for overedited pictures is endless <3 This is what I’m going to talk a lot below since it’s my cup of tea. It’s all about colours and pallete addiction. If you love looking at super bright/silly/cheery screenshots and they boost up your mood, than join the squad!

Basically, Maxis match (I’ll just shorten for MM from now on) players avoid super shiny skins or hair textures and prefer to have content with Simlish letters instead of English ones. This is a very important factor for me when I choose paintings or prints for T-shirts. I don’t know, I feel like it’s so cute that sims can’t understand our languages, talk this funny gibberish simlish language. It’s cute! There are so so many people that I can recommend. @lina-cherie @keoni-chan @kahlenas They are first who came to my mind <3

4. Grungy/cosmic

screenshot by @lilithpleasant

I don’t know if these are suitable words :D But this is how I describe people’s game who like aliens/supernatural sims/grungy textures with or without bright colours as well. Just think would you prefer a bit of a grungy stuff or less-textured but cleaner MM? You always need to think about textures while you download stuff. I can recommend to check out @pooklet or @furbyq-sims

5. Semi

screenshot by @whysim

You might ask me “Why am I not allowed to put a realistic skintone on a maxis sim? What the hell?” Of course, you are! Do it please, if you want. There are no rules, no restrictions. You CAN go semi-realistic, you CAN mix patterns, you CAN mix colours. There’s only one rule: please, enjoy what you do. Don’t be afraid to share your pictures on the Internet. There will always be people who can judje your style and say: “meh, it’s too dull, meh, it’s too bright, meh, too shiny, meh, too plain meh, meh, meh”. Just don’t pay attention and enjoy your game. As for semi-realistic I can recommend such wonderful people as @marvelann @lilith-sims @falkii @knowledgeaspiration

A bit about my style: I’ve always loved cartoonish/bright style. I’ve never ever played with shiny textures. Before Tumblr era I just played either without CC or with a bunch of maxis recolours. How I came up with the idea of cartoonishness? Pretty simple. It’s a part of my personality, I think :) I’ve always loved Disney/Pixar movies. Cartoons just make life a lot funnier! They make me happy. I’m a pre-school teacher after all :D. You can’t imagine how many cartoons I’ve watched throughout my life. I can quote Peppa Pig and will never be tired of that :D Before Tumblr I just played some funny legacies (I’ve never finished any though :D) When I found out about Tumblr, and such great content that can make my game even more Disney looking, it just blew my mind! Every time when I download stuff, I imagine that I’m watching a Disney/Pixar or whatever studio cartoon. When I create sims, I feel like I’m a cartoon designer. Pretty silly, right? :D

Let’s take a look at my screenshots from the past. I tried to find similar ones with a lot of greenery.

2014

2021

I stil like a lot of greenery. Editing has changed, photo angles have changed. But bright colours and Maxis stuff are forever in my heart <3

Risa (2014)

Gage (2021)

As I’m a big cartoon addict, I love recreating game/anime/cartoon characters. No matter, if they’re my favourite or requested ones. I love when my sims have different traits. I love when they’re funny looking/clumsy/absent-minded or when they’re evil/supernatural. When they are pirates/detectives/vampires or witches. This is my way of playing Sims. I love this game as it gives us possibilities to show your creativity, a chance to recreate our favourite characters. A chance to be a writer of storylines or if you’re bad at telling stories, just being “a cartoon designer” like me :)

STEP 2 Colour palettes

If you’ve chosen the path of “bright maxis matchery” than colour palettes are super important! Oh, you can’t imagine how addicted I am to certain colours. I can download GBs because of it.

Here are some of my favourite colour palettes:

1. Anna’s colours

My absolutely favourite palette. I would download absolutely anything in these pretty colours. Just looking at them makes me so cozy *0* There’s a photoshop action for those who want to recolour CC in this palette.

2. Poppet’s colours

I especially like the latest one. So pretty! @poppet-sims is the queen of lovely recolours. She has some more palettes. But “Back to Basics is my favourite”

3. Eversims colours

@eversims has got a lot of pretty colour palettes. But the most iconic one is Ever So Lovely

So, these are the basic colours that I like downloading furniture/clothes with.

There are a couple more pretty palettes that I like:

Huning’s Pony Colours

Back in the days it was my ultimate favourite one. But these days I edit my pictures in Photoshop excessively and prefer calmer colours and add bright layers in photoshop instead.

Nyren’s Kosmic Colours

If you’re more into pastels, than try to download some stuff in this pretty palette.

You might wonder if I use all of these colours. Of course not! I have a selection of colours that I use: apple green, sky blue, yellow, red, pink, orange, purple, teal, mint. I absolutely love combining 2 or 3 of these in my interior shots. I also love choosing my sims’ favourite colours and dressing them/decorating their bedroom in this certain colour(s).

For example, my sim Mia likes apple green/purple and mint.

I think @deedee-sims can relate. While I prefer choosing a favourite colour per sim, she chooses favourite colour for the whole family!

This is a great idea, I think! :)

STEP 4 Bodyshop stuff

Ok, I hope it’s clear that I’m colour palettes addicted, now let’s move onto actual custom content and what I prefer adding to my game. I decided to divide CC by sections. Let’s start with Bodyshop.

4.1 Skintones

Another important thing that you need to choose for yourself. There are tones ofoptions. I’m going to recommend only MM skins as obviously I have no idea which realistic or semi-realistic ones are high quality.

screenshot by @deedee-sims

If you prefer trully maxis skintones, I recommend you to try Leh’s skintones. It’s super close to original ones in terms of shades. Also look at those button noses! These cute noses is the reason why I started using this skin back in 2014. But later I switched to Lilith’s feather as I wanted more variety and those noses there got a lovely shine.

It was my default skin for a lot of years. These days I own every possible skintone by Lilith and various blends by other people.

Lilith’s Alien Flavor

Lilith’s Android Skin Edit

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend v.2

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend

Lilith’s Apple Pie by Kahlena

Lilith’s Feather Skinblend

Lilith’s Feather Skins

Lilith’s Feather by Sim-Strangers

Lilith’s Feathers Colourful by Berrynooboos

Lilith’s Honey Supernatural Custom

Lilith’s Honey with freckles

Lilith’s Honey with no freckles

Lilith’s Honey Unnatural by Berrynooboos

Pixel-danger-sims pastel skins

Here’s a very handy set-up by Vimpse with Lilith’s skins being townified.

Try to choose one set of skins or download all of them by one certain creator. I need a lot of skins because I love creating tones of sims and I want to make them various looking.

4.2 Eyes

♦ Polaroid ♦ - my favourite

♦ Transcendental ♦

♦ Sleeping Lion ♦

♦ Sharp Eyes ♦

♦ Shallowed in the Sea ♦

♦ Hand Outs and Punch Ups ♦

These are just some of my eyes. There are some more by Poppet, by Kahlena. And I have various addons to these sets that I grabbed over and here. I remember having struggles of choosing only one set. But than I thought: why do I have to choose if I like all of them and want my sims to look as different as possible? I just love when they are cartoonish but high-quality with nice white clean sclera. Just look at Disney Rapunzel. You’ll see what I mean ^_^

There’s one little trick that most mm players do for making sims’ eyes bigger and rounder - adding a whiteline eyeliner by jesstheex. I personaly do it for every single sim of mine.

4.3 Makeup

I use tooooons of blushes, lipsticks and eyeshadows. I have everything by Lilith and Jesstheex. And lots of bits and bobs by various creators. I love using both matte or shiny textures. I sometimes add nose shine or use special nosemasks. There are various lovely things in my collection. What I can recommend you is to download a sim that you like by another creator with the help of Sims Clean Installer and just steal makeup from the sim to add to your collection *evil laughter* I recommend to do it because sometimes there are some mouth corners or various eyebags and etc which are difficult to find. It’s easier to grab them together with sims.

For example, I grabbed the shiny nosemasks from one of Lilith’s sims.

Sometimes I like adding a bit of shine on Sims’ noses. Some sims of mine don’t have shine. It really depends on a sim. But what I definitely like is cute button noses! I like using nosemasks to achieve that. I have all the masks by Lilith and these ones by kahlena.

4.4 Hair textures

Another important decision for you is the hair textures. I recommend you to choose one certain retexture. Back in the days, I used to have Remi’s textures

screenshot by @selenaq13

I liked Remi’s ones because they were non-shiny. They had maxis colours and a really cool yellowish blonde!

Receintly I switched to Simgarooped as I’ve always loved that there are 6 naturals. The yellowish blonde is still there! Plus my favourite Deedee-sims keeps updating every week with the retextures of new meshes <3

There are lots of various textures blends. Just search, download, play test. Think, if you’re ready to look at such type of hair hours of simming.

Also try to decide if you’d like to have more natural looking sims or go crazy and have supernatural/aliens. I used to have really bright sims with colourful skins and hairs.

Even my toddlers had unnatural hairs. It’s a lot of fun! But right now I prefer to create more natural looking sims though I like vampires/witches/aliens anyways!

screenshot by @honeylungsims

If you would like to have colourful supernatural sims, check out Honeylung! She has the brightest and most unusual supernatural sims <3

You’ll need a lot of face masks/bright lips/shadows. Check out @berrynooboos for the cutest alien CC.

4.5 Facial hair and Brows

I don’t think they should really match as long as they look great.

For example, I use eyebrows by @suratan-zir which are super cute and high quality but use Poppet’s textures instead of Simgarooped.

As for facial hair, I use some Poppet’s as well.

by Skoogy

by Poppet #1

by Poppet #2

by Simgaroop

4.6 Clothes

As I already mentioned, I love clothes in my favourite palettes. I love Simlish prints. There are so so many creators who share wonderful clothes.

I love @deedee-sims for age conversions, shoeswaps, morphs. I love @mdpthatsme for really cool 4t2 conversions. I love @moocha-muses for colourful T-shirts <3 Don’t be shy to send me a WCIF about a certain item of clothing.

STEP 5 Buy and Build

Tooons of bright recolours, IKEA items, Maxis add-ons, 3t2 and 4t2 conversions - all these things make my heart beat :D

These days I play in a rural-type world. I download a lot of craftsman-style build things, a lot of plants and garden deco.

I love bright wallpapers and greenhouses, I love clutter and kids CC for nurseries. Patterns with polka dots and plumbobs. Sunflowers and tulips. This is what I usually drop into my download folder :)

STEP 6 Taking screenshots

No matter which recolours and textures you prefer, I think high-quality pictures are important. The first thing that you need to playtest for yourself is a camera mod. It’s upo for you, but I can’t live without Gunmod’s Camera Mod. There are some more available, just check out.

Also lighting is important since Maxis original is terrible. I use Dreadpirate’s mod.

I recommend to take screenshots in a camera man mode. Click Tab to enter it. Use W, A,S,D,E buttons to move right/left/up/down etc. And what’s important, use X and Z for zooming in and out. I always use Z for example, when I take close ups of my cats.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with angles. Try some artistic ones.

You can move your camera down and take a screen from below.

Or vice versa from above.

Sometimes I’ll just take a screen of my sims’ hands or feet. It really depends. I love spending hours on just “walking” in a camera mod around my sims houses.

Another useful feature of this mod is to use Ctrl +4,5,6,7,8,9 buttons.

These can fix the angles for you. And after fixing them, when you click on 4,5,6,7,8,9 you camera will go back to those positions. It’s very handy when you want to screen 2 sims who are talking and there’s no need to constatntly move camera from sidde to side. Just fix it and wait for them to perform cute emotions!

As a bonus, you can fic positions in the life mode too. For example, I always choose a proper angle from above where the wgole house can be seen. And wait for something cute/funny/to happen.

Also there’s such a thing as The Rule of Thirds. It’s the rule of photography composition. I always try to follow it :)

STEP 7 Photoshop Editing

I love oversaturated colours. It can be too much for someone’s eyes, but I like the brightness :) I’ll share some good Photoshop resources. Probably, one thing that I can recommend to absolutely everyone no matter how bright you want your screens to be is sharpening! Seems that Tumblr eats our picture quality for breakfast. Sims screenshots seem so blurry to me. I love sharpening them first.

I use sharpening from Kalekaloo’s action.

After sharpening I run the base from Eversims Action and then add some colour layers from Simburgerr’s one (I like gradients and fluffy lights layers especially). It makes the reds colours a little bit too saturated but I think it’s cute!

There are a some more cute actions and PSD files out there:

OhMySims - Action 1

OhMySims - Action 2

Sterina’s Action

Photoshop PSDs by Pleyita

Snapdragoned PSD

Mandragore PSD by Kiinuu

JellyBeanery’s Action

Roguebotanist

Nnilou - 12:51

A generic PSD by Knowledgeaspiration

Colorize IT by Bonnypixels

Colour Crush by Bonnypixels

Just Like Heaven by Pixeldemographics

For more tips/palettes/cute fonts I recommend you to check out @bepixeled

That’s all that came to my mind. I hope at least something was useful!

#ts2 #sims 2 #the sims 2 #sims 2 tutorial #sims tutorial #sims guide #sims 2 guide

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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

Text

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much.

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness.

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name.

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major, I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit.

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top.

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag.

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him.

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door.

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed.

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face.

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us.

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony.

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead.

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?”

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus.

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door.

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work.

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly.

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do?

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped.

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D?

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel.

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist.

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me.

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man.

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.”

Fine, have it your way, Sir.

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion.

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat.

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point.

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?”

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy.

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner.

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added.

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

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zmediaoutlet · 3 years

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in support of Texas relief, @padaleckimeon donated $100 and requested Dean Jr. meeting Sam and Dean in heaven. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

(read on AO3)

When Dad dies, Dean takes a week off. It wasn’t sudden, or a surprise. Dad had been sick for a while, his body starting to fail him. At first Dean had been scared, and then he’d been angry. He was only twenty-four when Dad got the diagnosis and it wasn’t—fair, in some stupid but essential way. He’d barely graduated from college and, yeah, Dad was kind of old, older than a lot of his friends’ parents, but—he thought, somehow, that him dying just wasn't… applicable. Dad was just—there, always. Solid, supportive, kind of boring maybe but also stronger than anyone Dean had ever known, or would ever know, and it wasn’t right that he could just be sitting in his apartment midway through a novel and get a call and kind of sigh, because he was in a good part in the book, and then to sit up straight with his hair standing on end to hear Dad say, quiet, I'm sorry, buddy. We need to talk about something. That’s what he said, first. That he was sorry.

There were treatments, but not many. Dean had flown out and gone to a few of the appointments with the oncologist and Dad had been quiet, listening to the options. He’d researched a lot of this on his own, because Dean had done the same thing, and they’d both been nodding along during the options. Injections, radiation. Chemo. Dad had asked, polite, what the life expectancy was for each option, and Dean had watched the side of his face and not the doctor, and when the answer was given Dad had closed his eyes briefly, and then looked away from both Dean and the doctor, out the window at the snowy day, and Dean had known, then.

Dad made it past Dean’s twenty-fifth birthday. He had a party with his friends, at his girlfriend’s apartment, and they tried to keep his spirits up but it was a pretty shitty party, all told. The next day, his actual birthday, he flew back out to Dad’s house and he was in good spirits—had a mini-cake, even, with a single candle that he made Dean blow out—but he was thin, and his hair was growing back in snow-white and tender-soft, and when Dad fell asleep in front of the crappy old cowboy movie that Dean had picked just because he knew Dad for some reason liked it, Dean went out onto the porch into the nearly-springtime air and he cried, pissed at himself. Pissed at everything. Then just—unbearably sad, because he liked his current girlfriend but he didn’t think he was going to marry her, and that meant that whatever girl he did marry would be one his dad would never meet—if he had kids, they’d never know how his dad concentrated like a motherfucker on crossword puzzles and obsessed over documentaries and knew every single piece of the inside of that behemoth car in the garage and was just the smartest kindest most stubborn person. Just—the best person. They’d listen to Dean’s stories maybe but they wouldn’t know, because Dad would never meet them, and that was just—unbearable, that night. In the morning, Dad made oatmeal and Dean added a bunch of sugar because Dad’s oatmeal was inedible otherwise, and Dad smiled kind of rueful like he always did when Dean did that, and then Dad said, I’m sorry, again, kind of quiet, and Dean reached out and held his hand—thin, and the bones feeling frail—and he said don’t be sorry, Dad, and four months later, Dad was dead.

Dad was always pretty up-front with him about most everything, especially after he and Mom split up. When he was twelve, Dad explained the supernatural very carefully, telling him that he was safe but that other people might not be, and why. When he was thirteen, Dad told Dean that Hell and Heaven were both real and that there was, definitely, confirmed, a God, and maybe it wasn’t the same God that other people knew but that Dad said he was kind, in his own way. The person in charge of Hell, Dad said, was maybe less so, but she wouldn’t hurt Dean, ever. Dad said he knew that for fact, and he said it so certainly, looking Dean in the eye, that Dean believed him. When Dean turned eighteen, a few months from graduating high school, Dad took him to a tattoo parlor and said for maybe the first time in Dean’s life that something was non-negotiable, and Dean hadn’t cared because what other kid in the senior year was going to walk at graduation with a kickass demonic tattoo?

There were other things, though, that they didn’t talk about. Dad said one day a lot when Dean was little but then, when he was older and it was clear that one day would be never, he just said—I can’t, buddy. I wish I could.

After the week off, rattling around the old house, and the cremation with no service that Dad had insisted on, Dean drives out to the lawyer in Sioux Falls. She’s nice. Respectful but not cloying. The Samuel Winchester Estate that Dean is the sole beneficiary of is—a lot of money. A lot more money than he knew Dad had, or that he could have ever earned. Dad has assigned some of the money to go to charities, and to some people Dean doesn’t know—the lawyer doesn’t say who in the specific, but says they’re kids of some of Dad’s old friends. Dean didn’t know Dad had many friends, much less ones who’d get trust funds in inheritance. Aside from the stock options and the accounts and all the money left over, Dean inherits a list of assets. The house, of course. The Chevy in the garage, with the stipulation that he can never sell it. A safety deposit box, from which the lawyer has already retrieved the contents.

She leaves him alone, to go through the box. Neatly organized, like everything else in Dad’s life. File-folders of pictures, printed out all old-fashioned. Some of Dean when he was a baby. Some of when Dad and Mom were still together, leaning against each other, Dean hugged between them. Some—much older, creased and faded, stored in little plastic sleeves so they can't degrade. He recognizes a few from the framed copies Dad always had in the house. Some he hasn't seen. Most of them—almost all of them—are of his Uncle Dean, who died before he was born, and he looks especially at one that just—hits him in the gut, in this awful way where he has to sit there looking at the soothing taupe paint of the conference room wall before he can look at it again. Uncle Dean's facing the camera, sort of, although he's laughing about something and not really looking into the lens, and there's Dad, laughing too. He looks… young. Younger than Dean is now. He flips the picture over. Dad's handwriting, careful: 2006, Bobby's house. Almost fifty years ago. An entire life he didn't know. He thinks again of his imaginary future kids. These lives they have, grandfather to father to son, that overlap like a venn diagram but—not enough. Not close to enough.

What's a life? How to summarize, from beginning to faded end, in a way that would make sense to anyone but who it happened to?

Dad left letters, explaining, but he's gone and the context is missing. There are so many questions Dean wants to ask but he can't, of course, anymore. The first letter is attached to the key to the bunker, where he would never take Dean when he was alive, and on winter break from med school Dean flies from Boston to Kansas and rents a car and drives alone through the snowfields.

Dark, inside. He throws the big switch and the lights crackle, hum on, almost reluctant. He has no idea how it's getting power. Dust, but not as much as there could be. A library, a kitchen. Archives upon archives. Dad had explained, but what little he'd said both in life and in the letters didn't come close. It was home, he wrote, for over a decade. The only one we had with four walls, for our whole lives, although we didn't think of it that way. I didn't, at least. Dean doesn't know what that means but he looks into the bedrooms and sees… emptiness, plain bunks and old desks and funny lamps. I just picked a random room, Dad said, and as Dean's looking he really can't tell which was Dad's. Figures. Their house when Dean was growing up didn't change a bit, no matter how terrible that wallpaper was. It's only when Dean pushes open the door to room 11 that there's any personality, and he flicks the light and stands there blinking, surprised. Guns and knives on the wall. Books, piled up. Empty beer bottles crowded on the little table. Dust, but—not as much as there could be. He walks in, cautious, this feeling in his gut like he's in someone's home and they've just walked out, and could return any moment. A food bowl on the floor. A shirt flung over the chair. On the desk: more books and magazines and a folded actually-on-paper newspaper from 2024, and a job application, half filled out. Dean Winchester, it says at the top, in mostly-neat capitals, and Dean rests a hand on the back of the chair and feels… strange. He tries to picture it—the man from the pictures, Dad's brother, filling up this space. Drinking beer and reading pulp westerns and checking out—oh, weird, magazine porn. Dean shakes his head. Impossible.

In the letters, Dad said: Hunting was all we knew how to do. With everything we knew, it was our duty to use the knowledge the best way we could. I went back and forth on it. Your uncle never did, even if I know there were times he wished he—that we both—could be something else. I don't want that for you. I want you to live exactly the life you want for yourself. No expectations, okay? Not from me or anyone else.

There are printed files that go back a hundred years. More than. Paper files, but old SSDs too, with connectors Dean has to find adapters for. Dad: If you want to know what we did, it's digitized. I know I always said I'd tell you one day, but I never knew how to say it. I'm sorry for that. I always thought I'd be one hundred percent honest, if I ever got a kid, because of how we were raised. I didn't know how hard that could be. Stuff that you'd want to say, but when it came time to just open your mouth and say it there weren't any words.

Dad wrote up all the old hunts, it turned out. Simple notes about where/when/how, the kind of monster it was, the number of people who died and the people who were saved. The people they had to explain things to, who knew now about the supernatural underbelly to the universe. He noted, too, if there were injuries, and Dean reads with his hand over his mouth a long, long litany of Dean W. shot, right arm; Sam W. broken bone in hand; Dean W. concussion; Sam W. strangled. On and on. No wonder Dad didn't make a big fuss when Dean broke his leg in the fourth grade.

He sleeps in the bunker overnight, in one of the spare bedrooms that's not room 11. There's a fan on the ceiling, dusty office supplies on the desk. By lamplight he reads the letters, on his back on the stiff terrible mattress, his eyes stinging and past-midnight tired. Our lives weren't the kind of thing anyone would want, Dad wrote. I spent so long trying to get away from it because I thought 'it shouldn't be this way' – and I was right, you know? It shouldn't have been how it was. But it was that way, anyway, and in the end that was something I was okay with. We were making what difference we could. We were happy. A lot of people have it worse.

'We'. Dad hardly writes Uncle Dean's name but he's in every letter. We, we, we. Dad told Dean stories, of course, the dumb stuff they got up to when they were teenagers, or the (sanitized, Dean's sure) adventures they had as adults, but despite the pictures on the wall at home and the pictures in the deposit box and the whole life that's here, Dean can't—see it. Beer bottles on the table in the bedroom, one on either side of the tiny table. The shirt slung over the chair. We were happy, he says, but—how? Dean can't imagine it.

In the last letter Dad wrote, I think I'm writing this when I've got a month or two left. Dr. Hendricks isn't sure. I wish I had more time, to explain how it was. Who we were. I never told you the most embarrassing thing in the world, but I'm old and I'm not going to be around and not much will be able to embarrass me anymore, so screw it. (Fifty years ago I would have gotten really mad at myself for that kind of comment; more things age can fix.) There are books about us. There's a hard drive, in the bunker. It's labelled BURN THIS. (That's your uncle's handwriting.) They're true, more or less. Written by a really crappy, amateur writer, but he was a kind of prophet, and he knew everything there was to know about us, and he wrote books for about five years, based on our life and the real things we did. Some of it is exaggerated and melodramatic. A lot of it is just how it happened. You'll have to decide which is which. I don't come off too well in some of them but I hope you'll understand that the world… I don't know how to describe it. Somehow the world felt different, then. It was just us, trying our best. I hope it gives you some idea of the life we had. No matter what happened, I'm glad that life led me to you.

What's a life?

Dean marries. Not the girl from college but a woman, later. Red hair, blue eyes. Absolutely no sense of humor beyond puns. Hates cooking and has strong opinions on movies from the 1980s. They have three kids, a girl and then a boy and then a girl again. All dark-haired, smart. Dean gives the boy the middle name Samuel and his wife holds his hand, says it sounds great.

He's a doctor. He meets hunters. He sets bones for free and prescribes medication when needed and when it will be needed. A woman, last name Novak, calls him and says you know, your dad was one of the greats?, and he meets people—older than him by twenty, thirty years, with scars and dangerous lives and guns hidden in every corner, and he hears stories. Sam Winchester, who saved the world. Dean knows—he's read the books—but there are more years that the books didn't cover, more people who didn't die because of his dad's intervention. "They were the best," one man says, shrugging, and gets no argument, nods and shrugs from every hunter in the room, and Dean goes home that night and kisses his littlest girl where she's already tucked up in bed, and he thinks: what will she know, about who her grandfather was? Who their family is? What could she possibly know?

Dean's wife dies in her eighties. An accident. A broken hip, an infection following. Still happens, even in this new century. The kids are grown, have kids of their own, and the funeral is big, and there are people at his elbow who say to him we're so sorry and who share anecdotes of her life and who support him to his chair, even though at ninety he's perfectly capable of getting to his chair himself. He's a cranky old man, he realizes. She would've laughed at him. He thinks, inevitably, of his own father's death. Silent and unmourned, except by one. What's a life.

He writes letters, for his children. The estate is handled. He calls the oldest girl and explains to her that she's going to be the executor, and that there are things she has to keep. A key. A car. Pictures, so that her boys will know where they came from. "Of course, Dad," she says, placating a little because he's old and clearly starting to lose his grip, but she'll do it. She's a good kid. Dean learned how to raise a kid from the best.

When he dies, he's expecting it. The trip to the hospital. The monitors. He knows the pain meds even if he's retired and his doctor looks like an infant but she gives him the good stuff. It's—easy. A slipping away. He closes his eyes to sleep and there is a moment where he thinks with surprisingly clarity, this is okay, isn't it, and has the feeling of someone's hand laid on his, and then he sleeps, and doesn't wake up again.

He opens his eyes in an armchair, in a house that he doesn't recognize but that feels instantly familiar. Music playing, somewhere, and a gold-tinged afternoon spilling through the window, and tone-deaf singing from the kitchen. His mind feels clearer than it has in… Tears come to his eyes but it doesn't hurt. He puts his fingers to his mouth and smiles, breathing in slow, and thinks—well, this is it. Heaven.

Time is no longer time. Space is—immaterial. There's a house, not their house, but it's roomy and it has what he needs and the bed he crawls into with his wife at the end of a day is comfortable, and that's what matters, as he lays his hand on her hip where he used to lay it always, and she sighs against the pillow and squirms and tucks herself into a fetal pretzel, like she always used to. The spill of her hair red against the pillow. Her warmth, plush against his bones. She smells not of honeysuckle or vanilla but just like warm, human skin, the faint bite of salt-sweat at the nape of her neck, the must in the morning in thin bluish light when she turns over and finds him awake, and smiles. Incredible. The weight of her is real, and the spot between her breasts when he kisses her there is real, and he'd always believed in some distant way that what his dad had told him was true—that there was a heaven, that there would be some kind of justice after death—but it was distant, and academic, because of course there was a life to live and patients to care for and children to raise and a wife to bury and a death to get through. What a thing, to come to. This place, with her hair on the pillow, and her smell. He hadn't forgotten it, in the end, after all.

The house sits in some place that feels like South Dakota. Home, or close to it. A lake among trees. A distance between things. He reads, and plays games he barely remembers from being a kid, and he watches the Ghostbusters movies again because his wife insists and they are, he has to admit, still funny, but he makes fun of the weird museum guy anyway, and she kicks him where her feet are tucked in his lap, and he tickles her in retaliation, and then—well, the movie will be there, later, when they're done.

She rides her bike every day. One day she comes back and says she was just visiting her mother, and Dean sits up and says, "What?" But—of course. What's time? What's a space, between this shared slow heaven and another? She shrugs—his mother-in-law says hi—and he sits there on the couch with his game paused, watching her go into the kitchen and shake her sweaty hair back from her face, redoing it into the practical twist at her neck like she always does, and he thinks—okay. Okay, maybe now.

The bookshelf has every book he could want, and seems to know what he needs to read before he does. Raining outside, spattering gentle on the eaves, and his wife made a huge pot of tea and took it to bed upstairs and left him just a cup, and so he sits at the kitchen table with his cup of tea and opens the book—Home, by Carver Edlund—and reads it, lingering, even if he's read it three times before online, his thumb brushing over the cheap too-thin pages of this physical copy. There's a poltergeist, preposterous. The psychic, odd and familiar. The brothers, united, and he reads the next-to-last chapter very slowly, lingering, as they find the box of pictures, as they get into the car together. Drive off, to meet some new dawning day.

He finishes his cup of tea. Puts on a clean shirt, combs his hair. "I'll be back," he says, to his wife, and she blinks at him from her nest of blankets with her own book and then only nods, and Dean goes downstairs and gets into his car and finds the road, beyond the garden gate, and drives.

He doesn't know where he's going but that doesn't matter. He turns on the car radio and it's playing—oldies, but really oldies, the stuff that was old when he was little. What childhood sounded like. Farms appear, melt away. Trees rising, through hills. He sings along, under his breath, remembering: a roadtrip to his grandma's house, Mom sleeping in the passenger seat and Dad driving through the night, and Dad singing very, very badly, as quiet as he could, and Dean thinking even as a kid that this was some private thing, to see, and he had to be silent and not show that he was awake or it would disappear. That feeling, it crept up on him at the oddest times, when he was an adult, and later. That sensation of the armored tank of the car moving through the dark, and the silence around them, and the quiet music inside, and Dad, in a world of his own, entirely separate from the world he shared with Dean.

Another hill. Climbing a mostly-paved road. Not raining anymore but the sun coming in slanted gold through the trees. Distance, and a curve, and then: a house. Old-looking. Older maybe than the one Dean and his wife share. In front of it, a car. The car.

Dean parks. He gets out, and the air smells washed-fresh, a little fecund. Like summer. He puts his hand on the hood of the Impala and it's sun-warm and he tears up, completely unexpected, and has to sit on the hood and hold his hands over his face, his heart—full, in a way he's felt since dying, but not in this particular way, this way of feeling that he thought had mellowed, a lifetime ago.

So much for putting on a good face. He wipes over his mouth and dashes his eyes clear. A porch, with new-carved railings. A door, painted blue. He knocks, his body feeling empty and clean and young, terribly young, and before he's quite ready the door opens, and it's—his uncle, in a purple plaid shirt and paint-spattered jeans and grey socks, frowning at him, saying, "Uh, hi?"

He looks—almost exactly like he looked in the pictures. Maybe forty, lines beside his eyes and heavy stubble on his jaw. The age he was when he died. Dean opens his mouth, can hardly dredge up what to say, and then he hears a voice say, "Dean?" and Dean and his uncle both turn their heads to see—Dad, young too, completely shocked, standing on the far side of the porch in running gear with sweat slicking his hair back from his head, and Dean drags in air and says, "Dad," and Dad grins at him, that big creased dorky-looking dad-smile that Dean only got once in a blue moon, and he steps forward and they're hugging, then, and it's—heaven. That's all he can think. Heaven, Dad's arms tight around him, his shoulders slotting in under Dad's because—Dad was so tall, and this is where Dean fit and never would fit again once Dad was gone. Here, under Dad's arm. Like being a kid again.

Dad's hand on the back of his head. A startled, shaky, deep breath in, and then hands gripping his shoulders, and being shoved reluctantly back to have Dad look down at his face, serious and worried. "How long has it been?" he says. "Are you—you didn't—?"

"I was ninety-seven," he says, and Dad's eyebrows go high and he smiles, big and glad and real, relieved. He touches Dean's face and Dean smiles back, tears rising again for no reason and for so many reasons. "I look good, don't I?"

Dad huffs a laugh. "You look great," he says, and then his eyes lift over Dean's head, and Dean has to turn around because—

What to call him? Uncle Dean. Standing there with his shoulder against the doorframe, his mouth tucked in on one side. Like from right out of one of the pictures, returning Dad's look. His eyes drop after a second to meet Dean's and Dean feels this odd jolt, in his chest. Bizarre, to see. He's real. All Dad's stories, the wall of memories, the books, and here he is, in grey socks, looking all over Dean's face like he's seeing it for the first time. "Guess you got your looks from your mom's side of the family," Uncle Dean says, finally, and Dad says, behind him, "Nice, dude," and Uncle Dean shrugs, unrepentant, but with an unexpected dimple quirking into his cheek, and holds out his hand to shake, and Dean takes it and has another shock at it, warm, callused, firm, real—while Uncle Dean says, wry, "Well, I guess some introductions are in order, huh?"

Uncle Dean and Dad share the house. It's nice, inside. Old fashioned in a way that feels comfortable, as Dean's come to expect. (He wonders, in a few hundred years—will new arrivals to heaven expect old-fashioned arcologies?) Uncle Dean brings beers from the kitchen and Dad takes his without even looking, drinking in Dean's face when Dean's doing the exact same to him. He looks so young. Younger, maybe, than he was even in the few pictures Dean has of him being a baby, held tiny in the crook of Dad's massive arm—some past time, some time Dean doesn't belong to, but Uncle Dean clearly does. Dad shakes his head after a few seconds, huffs again, rueful. "I don't even know where to start," he says.

Uncle Dean rolls his eyes, behind him, and says, "How about you ask the kid how he's doing, genius." Mean, but he squeezes Dad's shoulder too, and Dad bites his lip, looks at Dean, his head tipping. Asking.

It's awkward, but only in the way Dean would expect. To see his dad after so long—and both of them dead—and to explain… what? A life. Being a doctor, meeting a wife. Children. Grandchildren. "Great-grandpa Sammy," Uncle Dean fake-whispers, "told you you were old." Nudging Dad, half-sitting on the arm of his chair. Looking proud enough he could burst, although Dean doesn't know exactly why.

"Are you going to make dinner or are you just here to heckle?" Dad says, looking up, exasperated, and Uncle Dean raises his hands, says, "Oh, I'm here to heckle," but he gets up, too, says, "You get tired of the inquisition, kid, we've got more drinks in the kitchen," and cuffs Dad around the back of the head before he disappears down the blue-painted hall—and music comes on, after a moment. The kind of music that was on Dean's radio as he drove. Comfort sounds that go deep into some space beyond his bones.

"He's a lot, sorry," Dad says, after a second.

"I know, I read about it," Dean says, and Dad blinks at him, mouth half-open, before he remembers.

They have dinner. Uncle Dean makes burgers, fries, a spinach salad that Dean and Dad both groan at, and he looks at them across the table with his burger in his hands and shakes his head. No salad on his plate, Dean notices. They talk but about—nothing. Uncle Dean asks if the Broncos ever won the Superbowl again and Dean tries to dredge up an answer. Dad asks what his wife did for a living. Dean wants to ask things and doesn't know how. There's time, he knows, but for now all he can do is—watch. Dad leaning back in his chair with a beer, smiling at him while Uncle Dean tells some probably well-worn story about trying to fix the Impala in a rainstorm, and Dad was pissed for some reason and so kept handing him the wrong tools. "It was too dark to actually read the grip numbers," Dad says, patient like it's the hundredth time, and Uncle Dean says back, immediately, "Who needs the numbers? You can feel the weight in your hand!" Old arguments, well-worn, in the well-worn house. The way they move around each other, washing dishes, putting plates away. The way Dad's eyes will jump across the table, half a second before Uncle Dean's even opening his mouth, a smile already waiting to be pushed back down.

When it's night he says he should get back to his wife. "I'd like to meet her," Dad says, "some day."

"Gotta see who's willing to put up with a Winchester," Uncle Dean says, eyebrows waggling.

Dad sighs but nods, too. Dean gets folded into a hug, there under the tuck of his arm, and then he hugs Uncle Dean, too, impulsive and just—wanting to, feeling like a kid. Uncle Dean startles but hugs him back right away. "You're good, kid," he says, quiet against the side of Dean's head, and Dean nods and says, "Thanks," for more than he can say other than that, right then on this particular day, and then he gets into his car and pulls away from the house and looks back to see Uncle Dean gripping Dad's shoulder again while they watch him move away—and when he's home, after a blurring drive that's long enough for him to settle himself, he comes up the stairs to where his wife's warm in bed and slides in beside her and she says, sleepy, "How was it," and he says against her hair, "Perfect," because—it was. It was perfect.

Dean comes alone to their house twice more, on days when he needs it and doesn't see a reason not to. He brings his wife, the third time, and Dad's extremely polite and Uncle Dean asks her about engineering and Dean enjoys it, from the couch, while she gets the same interrogation he did, and they're driving home with her at the wheel, his eyes on the passing trees, before she says, "They're an interesting couple," and it doesn't strike him, for what may be a mile of blurring distance, why that sentence wasn't quite right.

It should be a shock. It isn't. That it isn't should, itself, be a shock, but he sits with it for a few days, the easy rhythm of heaven sliding around them.

He goes to see his mother, finally. She's in a place on a lakeshore. Her first husband, kind but remote, giving them space. She presses his hands between her own and he goes through the list of answers to all her questions, smiling, feeling déjà vu, and then says, cautious, that he's been to see Dad. "Oh!" she says, and doesn't seem upset. "How is he?"

"Good," he says. They never married, his parents—Dad had told him, much later, that it just didn't occur to him to ask—and he knew they didn't resent each other, but there wasn't much closeness there. He didn't realize how little until he was married himself. Still, he's cautious as he says: "He and my uncle have a place. Uncle Dean, you know?"

Mom sits back in her chair. "Well, then," she says, soft. She's youngish, too. Fifty maybe, her hair shot with grey. "That sounds about right."

He doesn't know how to ask but there's no way to do it other than just—to ask. "What do you know about him?"

Mom smiles, slow, and looks out at the lake. "Honey, your dad's a good man, but I think you know as well as I do that he doesn't give a lot away." Dean follows her look. A boat, far out on the water. Not close enough to hail. "He didn't talk about his brother, much. That said more than I think he knew it did. All those pictures. Well, you remember." She shakes her head, looking down at her lap. "I resented him for a while. A dead man. Silly of me. But then I suppose your dad could have resented Luke, if he'd—cared more. Sorry. That sounds like I'm angry, but I'm not. There just wasn't much left in Sam, that's all. He loved you and he loved someone that wasn't here anymore and there just wasn't room for me, or at least not room for what I needed. I wished I could've known him. Dean, I mean. I would've understood your dad a lot more, I think, but then—I don't think I would've ever met him, if Dean were around."

When he gets home he pulls a book off the shelf. Frail, the spine cracked badly. Supernatural, the first book in the whole series. When Dad was at college and the whole thing started. He sits on the floor by the bookshelf and lets the cup of tea his wife brings go cold on the rug, and reads again and again the scene—coming down the stairwell, finding the car in the garage, going through the details of the voice on the tape, on where their dad (Dean's grandfather) could possibly be, and Dad says there's this interview he can't skip. His whole future, on a plate. In the story, it's Dad's point of view, and he looks at Uncle Dean and Uncle Dean smirks, and Dad thinks, This is exactly what I was getting away from. Dean drags his thumb over the page, looks at the shelf. All those books. All the years in them, and the horrors in those. Hell, and apocalypse, and none of it euphemisms or easy metaphor. All the things Dad wanted to get away from—and then all the years, after, where he stayed exactly where he was. And then—a lifetime later—to come back home to a house, with a blue door, and his eyes not bothering to follow his brother as he leaves a room, because he knows without doubt that he'll be back.

In bed, he asks his wife, "When do you think the kids will get here?" and she turns over and stares at him, and says, "Hopefully not for years?"

He shakes his head, folds his arm under his head. "Duh," he says, and gets her to punch his chest lightly. "Ow. I meant… I don't know. What do you think their lives will be? Like… who will they be? I can't even imagine."

She stops trying to lightly beat him and goes thoughtful. Her thumb finds the little scar on her chin and rubs it, as is her habit, and her eyes slip over his shoulder to the distance. "They'll be—them." He raises his eyebrows, and she shrugs, rolling closer. "I mean, what do you want from me? I knew Abbie for fifty-one years and I still think that girl's a mystery. When she's… probably a grandmother herself, now, I guess. Is she still at Notre Dame? Are she and Andre happy? Are the boys healthy and do they like each other, and did she ever get Jacob to stop drawing cartoon dicks on the walls?" Dean laughs—god, he'd forgotten that—and she smiles at him, props her head on one fist. Says, softer, "Did she live the life she wanted to have? I don't know. I guess when she gets here we can ask her, but we'll never…"

No, they'll never. Dean touches the scar on her chin and she focuses on him, instead of some other world they're no longer privy to. "It's a venn diagram," he says, after a moment. "All of us. Abbie, overlapping with you and me, and then us overlapping with our parents, and on and on, all the way back. I guess we don't get to know what's outside the center parts."

"Even if there's a hundred and four crappily-written books about the other parts," she says, raising her eyebrows, and Dean shrugs, caught. She grins, shaking her head at him, and then squirms in close, tucking in under his chin. Kisses his throat, sighs. "Why not stop at a hundred? Seems random."

"I don't know, maybe the publisher wanted him to stretch it out," Dean says, and she hums, and puts her nose on his collarbone to settle in. He smooths her hair back, away from her shoulder. His favorite book is Swan Song, probably. The final one, as far as most people knew. His dad, the hero, saving humanity and the world, but that wasn't the best part. The best part was the army man, stuck in the door. His dad, looking at that, and meeting his brother's eye, and that being—enough. Just that, and all the life it represented. Enough.

"Venn diagrams," he says, aloud, quietly.

"Yes, you're very brilliant, Dr. Winchester," his wife says, mumbling. "Now go to sleep."

He kisses her hair, and does.

#ffcc #wincest #dean jr #my writing #this is again just sort of a collection of paragraphs #and it's--mostly what you asked for i think?#but mainly it's me musing about the unknowability of parents and children #so uh #that's what i was able to manage #hopefully i'll remember how to construct a story soon lol

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ashesandhackles · 2 years

Note

lily and harry for the character meme!

Ooooh <3 my son and his fictional mom! Let's gooo.

• favorite thing about them

Harry: it will be cliche, but his bravery and sense of honour. Just recently it was pointed out to me that in GOF, he jumps over the cup (his means of escape) to get to Cedric's body first. It's incredible to me this boy is 14. Of course, i am a mess when I read Forest Again.

Lily: that her association with magic is joyous. The first scene with her when she jumps off the swing and floats in air both shows her control, her powers but also joy. It stands in contrast to Harry, whose magical powers showed up when he was in emotional distress. I really would have loved to have known more about her.

• least favorite thing about them

Harry: honestly? Pretty much nothing. Again, it is due to me enjoying flaws in characters that I find this question hard - but I will be honest, every time he lost his temper, i was either with him or was fascinated by the scene in general. My recent obsession is the scene with him and Hermione in DH in The Life and Lies chapter.

Lily: that she is a ghost in the story that exists to prop story of both her son and her former best friend. We get very little about her in comparison to James, who feels more fleshed out.

• favorite line

Harry: all the sass! But this one never fails to get me: "This is night Diddykins. That's what we call it when it gets dark like this."

Lily: "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the Giant Squid!" She has wit - much like her son. So many writers either go for "fiery temper" or "stuck up" - neither of which holds true on page.

• brOTP

Harry: it's Ron. Always.

Lily: the letter to Sirius was so warm and suggests a close friendship with emotional honesty (that bitchy line about Petunia's vase lol), so Sirius.

• OTP

Harry: Ginny. I really wish HBP did not take most of their relationship offscreen, but this is a relationship I know works best for him and his emotional needs from the very little we do get. Also the lovely fan content makes me really enjoy the ship.

Lily: i have read a lot of ship content with her, but I am partial to a well written Jily. So, James.

• nOTP

Harry: the same answer as the one in Sirius ask. No Sirius x Harry please 🙅

Lily: hmm ..i actually don't have any at the moment. I think my needs with her are simple - don't treat her as a trophy, but a thinking, feeling character with agency, and I am fine. Anything else, and i click out of fan content for her.

• random headcanon

Harry:- his post war Azkaban reform is done in memory of Sirius. He and Hermione also advocate for rehabilitative reforms that focuses on mental health for Azkaban.

- he and Hermione find the Half Blood Prince textbook after war and get the Potions recipes updated/revised.

Lily: that she has a sweet tooth like her son! :D she and Snape developed a capacity of being quite proficient in wandless magic and did lots of experiments over the summer. She initially called Peter "Wormy" because it annoys him, but it stuck. (New reason for Peter's betrayal: he just wanted the woman who called him an annoying nickname killed). Also, she and James are pretty terrible cooks and they really struggled in hiding at first - Sirius used to come over a lot to cook for them (given that this boy was living independently at 17).

• unpopular opinion

Harry: manifestations of Harry's abuse is right there if you know what to look for. He is not an "unrealistic victim". Also, no version of Harry would rest if he thought people were in danger - so Auror in a reformed Ministry makes perfect sense as a career choice. He is a little too driven by overdeveloped sense of responsibility to save people + adrenaline to enjoy teaching as a job.

The other one is that Albus Severus is a name that makes sense with who Harry is post war.

Lily: she is far more compelling as a flawed character who chooses to sacrifice herself for son rather than a paragon of goodness (which is not what we get in memories of her btw). I also find her friendship with Snape super dysfunctional and interesting, and criminally underexplored (or at least in a nuanced way) in canon compliant fics. Also, she and James used to both sneak out under the cloak in hiding ("no chance of excursions" she tells Sirius but she means for both James and herself. I have no idea why people read this as James gallivanating alone when he could have done so if he wanted - the dude is an Animagus)

• song i associate with them

Harry: alt-J- Nara. More about the feel of the song than anything else.

youtube

Lily : time of our lives - Tyrone Wells

youtube

• favorite picture of them

Harry: Blvnk's picture of long haired Harry. I love the hc of him looking like Sirius when he grows up!

I also love this one and this one And this one

Lily: this picture! It really captures her striking beauty while also maintaining her girl next door ish vibe.

#asks #harry james potter #lily evans #thanks for the ask ❤️

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gb-patch · 3 years

Text

Ask Answers: May 15th Part 2

And here’s the next part of the long answer set of the day!

When will OL: N&F take place? Beginnings and Always took place during summer breaks, will now and forever take place during a fall break or will the characters be going to school at the time of the events we play through?

It takes place over all of the fall season, so school will be happening in OL2. Some events do take place in school, though many times events only start after school is already out for the day, haha.

Hey!! I have kind of a weird question?? I’m sorry if it’s been answered before and I just haven’t seen it but is OL 2 taking place during the same years as OL 1? I’m just curious, thank you for such amazing games!!!

It’s a similar time frame, but not 100% exactly same.

Do you have any idea when the demo for now and forever will be available?

Hopefully this fall! But that’s not a guarantee.

Okay the crime show in Step 2: Growing up. Long blonde hair, police station, crime series? Was it The Closer? Because I’m the same age as MC and Cove and my mom was constantly watching that when I was 13. 😂

Haha, yeah! The Closer and, to a lesser degree, Medium were the kind of shows I was referencing there. My mom also used to watch those back in the day.

Hey um this might be an odd question but if the setting of OL: N&F is fall/autumn, what country or city will it take because my mind tells me it is either Poland or Canada. Also I can't wait for the game I am hyped

It’s set in the USA again. We’d like to be able to have cameos and that’s easiest to do if the OL games take place in the same country.

Is it possible for the PC of OL to have non-seriously dated other people in the in between years even if they’ve had a consistent crush on Cove?

You can causally date Baxter in Step 3 if you get his DLC and then ultimately choose Cove in Step 4. If you mean off-screen people, it doesn’t really come up, but you can certainly headcanon that. The game never says Cove is the only partner you’ve ever had.

Is there going to be a Kickstarter for Now and Forever as well? For like voiced names and stuff again? Didn’t find B&A until after it was released and I’d really love the opportunity to hear my name in the game 🥺

Yeah, we are gonna have a Kickstarter with getting a voiced name as a reward! Though, it will be more expensive than it was for OL1. I feel bad to raise the price but we realized too late the first time around that it was being super undersold for the amount of work it took, aha.

Do you know how much the remaining DLC for OL will cost? (Step 4, Derek, Baxter)

Step 4: Free

Wedding DLC: $2.99USD

Derek DLC: $4.99USD

Baxter DLC: $4.99USD

Has an artist for the new position been picked yet?! I'm super excited for the new game!

We did fill that spot. Thank you so much for taking the time to apply!

hmmm what would it take to get each of the XOXO jerk squad to feel the need to hug you?

They’d have to first like you a fair amount, otherwise the most you’d get is maybe a pat on the shoulder. If they were attached, they might hug you if you broke down crying or if you gave them super good news.

Unless it’s Shiloh, of course. If you want a hug you only have to ask!

May i ask how the Derek DLC will work? I believe that there aren’t any memories in step 4 and doesnt derek’s dlc take place during that step? So will the dlc add memories? Thank you!

Derek’s DLC will add five Moments to Step 2 (a new page will appear on that screen if you get the DLC). Then in Step 4 you’ll have to choose between playing the default epilogue or going through the Derek romance story.

Is the pc version on itch,io different from the steam version? Like an offline one or something?

Steam has achievements, but that’s about it. Both can be played offline, if you prefer.

I've been wondering this for awhile, what determines if cove winds up with a ponytail in step 3? I've done multiple runs with different MCs with varying hairstyles. Or does it have to do with a particular moment in step 2?

I’m afraid I can’t say exact choices that determine things. But generally it’s preference based options in the Step before that decide those things.

Any Floret Bond updates?

No, the artist had to leave the project and it’s been on-hold. I’m not sure if I want to try working just with what we have or replacing it all entirely. The design is a bit too specific for us to easily find someone who could mimic it. Hopefully we’ll work things out later, though.

In step 3 is Cove's plan always to stay in sunset bird?

Yeah. He is never ready at 18-years-old to make a big life change.

I love your content! If it's alright to ask, you answered in a previous ask about how Jeremy was too particular with what he likes his types to be romanceable with just any MC and it's sort of got me wondering.. What /are/ his types and/or preferences and such? Sorry if it's a lot!

Jeremy likes stubborn jerks and will not date someone who’s sweet or even generally a decent person, haha.

uh, excuse me if you said this somewhere before, but how will step 4 be actually? Will it he like an actual step and have moments and dlc and all? Or will it be more like a long epilogue of some sort?

Will the step 4, the wedding and extra routes dlcs be paid too? Im just confused, sorry if im asking too much

Step 4 is only an epilogue, so it’s just a long series of scenes one after the other rather than a collection of Moments you can choose from.

The Step 4 epilogue is free, the wedding DLC, Derek DLC, and Baxter DLC cost money.

i’m not sure how much of the wedding dlc you have planned already, or if this would be to spoilery, but what kind of wedding traditions will be included? i keep thinking about how flustered cove would get over a garter toss & was wondering if we’d see a scene like that haha. obviously no worries if it’s not included, i’ll enjoy literally anything cove related

I don’t know for sure yet, haha. Right now we’re focused on the parts before the big day. We’ll see how many scene alterations we can include for the wedding itself later on.

Hello! Firstly, thank you for creating such an amazing game like OL, and I couldn’t be more excited for OL2! Out of curiosity, are you looking for any writers to come on for OL2 or are you all pretty much set in that department? Just thought I’d shoot my shot haha but I’m still excited regardless ^^!

We will be hiring writers for OL2 later this year! Thank you for the interest.

Will we be blessed with a spin-off Yandere Cove, like XOXO Blood Droplets?

Sadly, no. It’s a shame but there’s not enough time to keep making OL1 bonus/spin-off content.

How is Q pronounced?

I’m afraid Q’s full name hasn’t been publicly announced yet so I can’t answer here (Q and T are the first letters of the names for the new LIs in Our Life: Now & Forever).

Question; is the steam version getting a Mac update? I purchased the dlc there thinking it had Mac support without realizing it and just wondered if I’d need to refund it to purchase on itch.io 😭

I’m really sorry, you will need to get a refund from Steam. We do hope to have it there for Steam eventually, but have no idea of when it’ll happen. Apple requires special notarization to be an officially accepted app for their devices. We don’t have that. Steam requires having that, Itch will let you release it as an non-notarized third party app. That’s why Itch is the only place that has the Mac version right now.

would you mind posting outfit sheets for Cove in every step? it would make things a lot easier for us artists. it would save a lot of time spent looking for references

I think we did do the earlier steps when they were finished way back in 2019 (this game took a long time to make, aha), but we can probably repost them sometime!

In our life n&f, will we be able to get into qprs/will there be more options in regards to having deep platonic relationships with the love interests? Because as an aroace individual, it would be great if there could also be emphasis on platonic love so that it's more aspec inclusive.

It’s a little hard to say at this point. There may not be things like a wedding DLC for OL2 and so the relationship for platonic and romantic feelings might not go as far as it did in the first game. We’ll kind of have to see how much we can do based on timeframe/budget constraints that will only be set near the end of the year. But we will be keeping things like that in mind at least.

hi! i really really like your game and im absolutely in love with it! i cant wait to try your other games like xoxo droplet and future OL NF :))

during the step 3 erands moment i got curious, which fudge flavor is his favorite? it seems like he likes all of them, but which 4 do you think he would like best?

also i noticed that in some playthroughs cove would let me give him a piggy back ride, and in some he wouldn't, how come?

how does your choices affect cove's interests or looks? i replayed the game without changing any choices but i got cove to look different, is it just random?

thank you!

Cove’s favorite flavors are ones with nuts and that are fruity! But he appreciates them all. Whether or not you can give him a piggyback ride depends on if your MC is fit/large enough to hold a muscular 6-foot-tall beach boy, haha.

Cove’s appearance does depend on choices and it’s generally tied to choices that are preference based rather than emotion/action based, such as which key chain you pick in Step 1.

Is it possible for cove to reject MC's proposal at the end of step 3?

Nope. He’ll always accept.

hi! i was wondering how heavily the side characters will be featured in the our life wedding dlc? obviously it'll be cove & mc focused, but i was thinking it'd be sweet if we could take lizzie dress / suit shopping or dance with cliff at the wedding or something.

The side characters are there about as often as they are in normal events. So, it’s clearly focused on Cove but he’s not the only person you have any meaningful moments with.

When will responses be sent out to applicants?

I’m afraid we don’t send responses out to all applications, only ones we’re interested in offering the position to. Not everyone likes rejection emails and the amount of applications is too high to contact them all to say we’re not hiring them. We post updates on the job page when a position has news. Right now we’ve filled every role that was open.

Is there also going to be the option to keep your relationships with the love interests platonic in Our Life: Now and Forever? That's something I really appreciate in Our Life: Beginnings and Always

Yeah! OL will never force you to end up in a romantic relationship with someone.

I was wondering, in the Step 3 Happiness moment, what are the different fishes Cove can compare MC to? I got "you'd be a paradise fish, because being with you is paradise," but my friend got "you'd be an angelfish." Are there more variations?

He says paradise fish if you’re a couple, angelfish if he’s just crushing, and then a royal dottyback/queenfish/emperor tetra (based on your gender) if he likes the MC platonicly.

Hello! So, in one of the Step 3 DLCs, Cove's arm was gone. I think it was to show him putting his arm behind his back. But if that wasn't the case, did it get yeeted?

Thanks for letting us know. That was an error we tried to fix a little while back. When did you make the save file you were playing? If it was older that might be why it happened. Or maybe the error wasn’t fully fixed after all.

Asking for your opinion, but do you think Cove would at all be into ABBA? Because all I could imagine during the car trip in step 3 was him and the MC belting to Mamma Mia.

Haha, yeah, there’d definitely be some ABBA songs he was into.

So throughout the game, Cove can develop different interests depending on the player’s choices; does this mean that he can have different careers in Step 4? Or his is line of work in adulthood never mentioned at all?

He can have different career paths in Step 4!

Hi!! I'm so so sorry if this has been asked before but I just acquired knowledge about the so famous nsfw dlc for OL and nearly chocked on my bubblegum 💀💀💀 So, my real inquiry is if that specific moment will have any kind of impact at some point of the fourth step OR if it will just be treated as a side-story-ish “what if” scenario.Also, is there any chance there'll be something similar for Step 4? Haha jk,,, unless 😳Questions apart let me thank you profoundly for making the best visual novel I've ever played 😭 Really really looking forward the epilogue and OL2 💕 Have a nice day

It’s just a bonus side story that’s fully separate from the main game.

It would be nice to have one for Step 4 too, but I sadly don’t see us having time to actually do it. I don’t know, if people are still asking for more OL1 content several months from now it might be doable and worth doing.

I'd just like to ask, when is Baxter's birthday :0 -- I'm really curious esp with their zodiac signs so ;w;

I don’t know, haha. Maybe I’ll come up with one someday.

Please help!! I bought the Step 3 DLC but I still have no idea how to get to where you can propose to Cove - any tips?

How do I get the option to propose to Cove at the end of the game?

You can click HERE for a discussion on that.

I love that Miranda and Terry are getting together! I'm curious if you have canon sexualities for them? Also just wanted to say how much I love OL and how much joy it brings me everytime I play it <3

Terry likes ladies and Miranda likes dudes!

ngl Step 4 Terry's design reads like y'all see trans guys as their assigned gender more than you see them as men to me (a trans guy)... like maybe if he isn't heavily dysphoric, I could see it, but everything you've said about him doesn't line up with that. Even then, immediate warning bells go off in my head looking at him. I wouldn't have touched the game if I saw him ahead of time.

I’m sorry you aren’t comfortable with the way the design looks. The situation with Terry is that he’s now open about who he is, but the body he was born with is still physically the same. He only came out recently as an adult and hasn’t gone through any treatments/procedures yet (his chest is flatter because he wears a binder). However, even though his body hasn’t transitioned at the point Step 4 happens, no one treats him as anything other than the guy he is. Having a trans character who’s identity is supported/respected from the start is what we’re going for in this case. But what we’re doing with Terry isn’t the only trans content we’ve ever had/ever will have in the future.

how would baxter react to bae pyoun and vice versa? and can you please detailly explain both love interests personalities from our life 2: now and forever? i was just curious, sorry for dumb question!!

I imagine it’d be pretty opposite experiences, haha. Bae would initially think Baxter is pushy and thoughtless, but would quickly realize, oh, he’s instead a soft, considerate boy. Very cute. Baxter would first be struck with the impression that Bae is charming and gentlemanly, but then would realize that, no, he’s a sarcastic asshole. And I’m afraid we can’t reveal the personalities for the next game yet.

Sorry if you've already answered this, but I have a question about the patreon exclusive moment you're working on. I was wondering if it's mainly going to be CGs or if it's mostly character sprites + backgrounds with some CGs.

Either way, thank you for doing the Lord's work and not only making Cove, but making this bonus moment as well 😌😌😌

It’s mostly sprites/backgrounds with two CGs!

—– —– —– —–

Thank you again for the interesting questions everyone :D

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

#our life #Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life: Now & Forever #xoxo droplets #ask #gb patch #gb patch games

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years

Text

➳april’s fool ♡

in which fred weasley is in love with y/n l/n, the girl he happens to tease and insult profusely for her attention.

fred weasley x gryffindor!fem!reader

word count: ±4.3k

tw: food, fireworks, pranking, fred being a bully, tad bits of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. minnie, dumbledore and severus

yeah, your grandmama probably know me

get more bottles, these bottles are lonely

it's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', "wow"

april’s fool

“tomorrow is april fools,” dumbledore sighs.

“you know what that means...?” mcgonagall asks, her voice on edge.

“the twins,” snape replies quickly, not even bothered one bit as he sips his dark coffee.

“and their pranks,” dumbledore dramatically rolls over in his armchair.

“okay and?”

“they’re a hazard, severus!” mcgonagall replies.

“that doesn’t stop them.”

“what will stop them?” dumbledore ponders, eyes faint with interest.

“you still have those weird buzzy fireworks right?” snape asks.

“of course.”

“and minnie, you have the cake mix your grandmother gave you?”

“still in my cupboard next to the biscuits.”

“excellent.”

y/n l/n listens from the other side of the door, grinning. she’s been called to mcgonagall’s lavish office for some business she hopes isn’t trouble, but the conversation the three are deeply invested in piques her interest.

she likes fun. the type of continuous laughter and uncontrollable fits of giggles at noon. that’s why she enjoys the pranks the twins play. they’re bold, sharp and reckless and have the undoubtable trademark of fred and george on them.

one too a many times she’s been on the receiving end of them. one time the twins had charmed the library so that she and other studious students could not find any books that they wanted or needed for a whole week.

another time, her hair had been dyed bright pink. she wasn’t a fan of it, but tried her best to rock it. it worked. y/n had received many compliments on her bubblegum pink locks.

she laughed it off a lot. whenever something quite embarrassing happened, it was usually funny.

even the snide remarks the older twin always cast her way.

including the time he called her a blackhead. well, multiple times.

“oi, l/n, looking like a blackhead.”

george had rolled his eyes at his brother before adding kindly, “at least you have nice hair. your tie’s always shiny too.”

she had just laughed, “at least i’ve got the blackhead looks to pull pink hair off, weasley, you can’t even pull off ginger hair, and thanks, georgie. love ya.”

fred had looked taken aback, but y/n still scowls at the memory. she gets she isn’t pretty, but there is a line you don’t cross when trying to insult someone.

he always calls her the most awful nicknames too; body parts that align with her name and random pieces of rubbish she isn’t bothered to remember.

she shakes herself of her thoughts and draws herself up, knocking thrice on the door lightly.

“come in,” mcgonagall’s calm tone beckons.

“good afternoon professors!” she chirps, smiling at all three.

they smile back. even snape. they’re big fans of the girl, who’s studious but mischievous. albus dumbledore has always thought that y/n’s eyes always look like all she’s seen is a beautiful sunset.

“now you must wonder why i called you here,” mcgonagall starts.

“you see, how have you punished the weasley twins when they play all those pranks on you?” dumbledore eagerly asks.

y/n gives a light laugh, “i just prank them back. i won’t get detention for this, right?” she jokes.

they laugh, “of course you will,” snape jokes back and for a second y/n is surprised that severus snape, the ever so cold potions professor, is cracking jokes. especially to her.

“well then, i guess i can’t tell you how i prank them back then,” she drawls dramatically.

“no, no, do tell, we’re, what do you young people say?” mcgonagall pauses, “ahh yes! we’re all ears!”

y/n bursts out laughing, “okay, i usually do something that’s subtle enough but still very noticeable. they need to be anonymous too, or that’ll start prank wars and i’m only looking for short term pleasure really. one time, i dumped a whole bunch of polyjuice potion in both their little goblets. fred became george and george became fred. they were so confused.”

mcgonagall is impressed.

“can you bake?” dumbledore asks and y/n shakes her head for a long time.

“can’t bake for my sanity.”

“awesome. that is what i thought too,” dumbledore answers and y/n smiles.

a single knock sounds. it’s proper and formal.

“come in!” mcgonagall yells.

draco malfoy in all his glory steps into the room, eyes alight with concern, ever so indifferent.

y/n knows him from quidditch. they’ve become relatively good friends, though she thinks he is very busy with his home life. she also knows that there’s more to him than the facade he has.

“afternoon,” he nods and gives a charming smile.

“now, draco, i understand your mother had enrolled you in baking classes,” snape says.

draco nods.

“you must bake a cake,” mcgonagall hands him the cake mix.

she hands y/n the box of fireworks and winks.

“good day professors! make sure to be at breakfast tomorrow!” y/n shouts, dragging draco with her to the kitchens.

soon draco is laughing with y/n, at her atrocious puns and lightly placed jokes, finding himself very much happy. he’s not interested in her romantically, he simply enjoys her company. he’s even sharing some funny stories of his own too.

“...and i told him, to precisely fuck off.”

“so that’s how you deal with him!”

“oh no, he didn’t stop. he kept bugging me.”

“what did you do then?”

“i cast a muffliato charm on him.”

y/n bursts into laughter as they pass the gryffindor common room, quickly hiding the box of fireworks in her cloak as she spots two red heads quietly snickering by the fat lady.

they notice the unlikely pair scurrying down the stairs.

“hey, google eyes!” fred shouts.

y/n doesn’t know fred well enough to decide if that greeting is dedicated to herself, so she continues upon her way.

“weasley,” draco states.

“huh?” y/n fakes oblivion.

draco jerks his head in the way of the twins, where fred is smirking handsomely, leaning against the wall in a model-like fashion.

george is shaking his head in dismay.

“i said googly eyes!” fred shouts again.

y/n won’t lie, she thinks fred has undoubtedly good looks and his ginger hair is cute. he’s just a terrible person. to her, at least. she knows she’s biased, she’s often seen fred comforting ginny after a bad fight with a boyfriend, and from what she’s heard from alicia and angelina and katie, he’s funny too.

she whips out her glasses and stares deadpan at him, before rolling her eyes and running with draco down the stairs, laughing like madmen.

they finish baking late at night, and waving her wand smartly over the cake, y/n produces a charm that will make the fireworks activate as soon as the cake is cut open.

draco smiles as he pipes purple and orange roses, writing a ‘happy bday fred and george’ in chocolate letters.

they add lots of sprinkles, hoping to seem like avid admirers of the twins.

“does miss l/n and misters malfoy need any assistance?” a house elf asks.

draco just about opens his mouth to snap a ‘no’ when y/n gives him a silencing look.

“thank you rosemarie, but that is not needed, you are welcome to watch and talk with us though,” y/n politely answers, giving her a grin.

the house elf sniffles, “miss l/n is too nice! rosemarie will make some hot chocolate for her! pretty hair!”

y/n laughs, “thank you very much, rosemarie. i think mister malfoy would also like some hot chocolate, with a tiny bit of firewhiskey, if that’s alright with you,” she winks at draco who just scoffs in reply.

when they’re finished with the cake and the hot chocolate, y/n enters the gryffindor common room. angelina takes the cake and wraps it up in a box and nice wrapping paper. she sends it flying to the twins’ usual spot on the gryffindor table.

“thanks angie!” y/n smiles, getting up from the cozy spot near the fire in the common room.

“why are you going? we’re staying up till midnight for the twins’ birthday; wanna join?” angelina asks.

y/n shakes her head, “i’m not too close with them, it seems like a rather intimate ceremony,” she keeps her words fluffy and light. really, she would join any birthday celebration, but she didn’t think she could handle the constant insults and annoying comments fred always made about her. and this would have been completely acceptable if she had done something to any one of the weasleys, but she hadn’t. she even regards ginny weasley as a little sister and was invited to one of ginny’s infamous slumber parties. okay, she might have a little crush on him for his joke-ish nature, but it’s nothing she can’t get over. he’s out of her league, for sure, she thinks. and terribly rude. she doesn’t understand why she still harbours those feelings for him. maybe because that time adrian pucey was mocking her for her ‘blood purity’ he stood up for her. or that time she hurt herself at quidditch and fred stayed up with her bandaging her wound. he cared when it mattered, she guesses.

“i’m sure they would love you there.”

“fat chance,” she scoffs, “have a good night!”

she goes to her own dormitory up the stairs. she’s well known in gryffindor house, but for different reasons than the twins may be. although she’s close with angie and alicia, she’s not close with the twins. mainly because she’s always studying, playing quidditch, and doing prefect things.

being on a quidditch team with fred weasley is bearable. mainly because she’s the captain.

she’s stopped by a large hand on her shoulder. the owner of the hand swivels and suddenly a grinning fred is revealed.

“where’re you going?” fred weasley’s annoying voice pronounces.

“the sahara desert,” she snaps back dryly, “you’re in the way of my world exploration.”

“am i, really?”

“‘course,” she reigns her attitude in, “nice night, isn’t it?”

“for you? never.”

she scowls. fred watches in utter amusement as she takes a deep breath and charmingly smiles.

“dearest freddie, will you please allow me to get to my dorm so i can have some sleep?”

fred’s heart skips a little at the nickname but shakes his head.

“what’s the password?”

y/n sighs. “i don’t know. y/n is a blackhead. googly eyes. whatevers.”

fred lets out a loud laugh. y/n finds herself trying hard not to laugh with him.

she turns around, ready to find her hufflepuff friend that has a spare bed in their dormitory, knowing fred is really stubborn.

“that’s not the password.”

“well, good night.” she walks off, before intensely diving in a style harry potter himself would be proud of, onto the stairs and running up the dorms laughing.

fred stands at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open.

“close your mouth, flies will be caught,” he heard the giggling voice of y/n.

“close yours and you’ll look better,” he insults back.

“oh shut up. we know i’m the prettier one. and that’s saying something.”

the next morning, fred and george wake up to presents, a rowdy common room, and a nice cake sitting waiting for them on the gryffindor table.

for the first time, y/n takes a seat opposite them, her eyes alight with the familiar mischief they always held. she steals glances at the professors, who were beaming down with interest, as if they shared an inside joke. draco malfoy has an odd smirk on his pale face.

all eyes are on them as they cut open the cake. with a bang, fireworks come flying out of the cake in all directions, sending crumbs and icing flying in the air and leaving soot on the twin’s faces. their ginger hair is covered neatly with white icing and the fireworks continue for a calamitous five minutes. everyone’s too busy laughing and trying to dodge the flying cake to see that y/n l/n and draco malfoy are laughing quietly in a corner together, both with spells like umbrellas.

fred’s eyes, however, are trained on y/n, who’s rolling over in laughter. he quickly casts a scourgify on himself and george, and strides casually over to her and malfoy, the usual lazy smirk on his face as he hears ‘draco ohmygosh that was the best. your cake decos are on point! d’ya think he’ll ever bully me again?’. that confirms his suspicions. she did play this prank on him. and it makes him feel fuzzy inside.

his face then contorts into a frown. she thinks he bullies her?

“i wouldn’t say he bullies you, y/n.”

he smiles. never mind.

“but it isss! i can assure you, there is absolutely nothing nice ‘bout being called a frame!”

fred snorts at the time y/n had been gushing adorably over a picture frame that was embellished with gold and bronze flowers to angelina. he had went over and in an attempt to catch her attention, said ‘you’re a frame’.

sure, he was good at flirting, but not to the girls he really really liked.

“that’s fucking funny,” malfoy laughs.

“oh shut it draco, your face is funny. but yeah, i should probably ask him to start fresh.”

he decides to interrupt their conversation.

“ask who to start fresh?” he butts in.

y/n doesn’t even look surprised, “in fact, you, fred, because i’m not really sure if i’ve done anything wrong to you or anything, and by my memory i don’t think i have and you keep being rude and stuff. if i have, i’m really sorry for it and i’m sorry that i hurt you and all. if we can y’know, start over, and maybe be friends?” she catches the unreadable look in fred’s eyes and hesitates, “or maybe not, that’s okay, we don’t need to!” she gives a small laugh, “er, sorry for ever bringing it up?”

the earnestness of her tone and the wistful look in her eyes makes fred fall a little harder. ever since he saw her nervously fiddling with her robes in first year, he’s been smitten.

there’s a silence. malfoy has slipped off, the sneaky bastard.

fred simply takes y/n’s hand, giving her a look as if to ask for permission.

she swallows and nods.

they’re in the courtyard, which is sunny and light. flowers are blooming everywhere.

“can i kiss you?” fred asks.

y/n’s eyebrows go up. “what?”

“can i kiss you?” fred repeats patiently.

“as in kiss? k-i-s-s?” y/n asks, eyes wide with suspicion and curiosity.

“yep,” he chuckles, “crazy, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you’re crazy.”

“really? can i kiss you?”

“i’ve never really kissed anyone.”

“i guessed that.”

her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”

“there better be a good reason because i was saving it for someone special.”

“i need a yes, love.”

she huffs, “yes.” she won’t tell him that she has a crush on him, because to be honest, she still isn’t sure if this is a prank or not.

she surprised when fred tilts her head up ever so gently, a smile on his face.

this kiss is short and sweet. he tastes like cinnamon.

when they’ve let go, fred notices the light pink dusted over her cheeks. he smirks.

“you have to tell me why you thought i’ve never kissed anyone,” she said, eyes flashing in deep thought.

“such a beautiful person as you does not deserve kisses from anyone.”

“...”

fred took this as a sign to go on. “the reason i’ve always teased you endlessly is because i want your attention. i didn’t think you’d give it to me any other way. if you haven’t noticed, i’m in love with you. i think you’re absolutely beautiful, both ways. i love it when you frown and get annoyed, even if you rarely do, i love it when you study so hard your face makes this really concentrated look. i love it especially when you laugh and smile and joke and play pranks. even if they’re on me.”

“...” she was studying his movements. inside her brain, a frenzy was going on. part of her brain- the ever so optimistic part, was screaming happily, and the logical part was using body language to analyse whether he was lying or not.

eyes? their honey brown colour was glistening with affection and truth, an expression so dainty on his face.

a quaint little smile was on his lips, a small one, a genuine one. it was different to all the other smiles she’d seen him smile.

he wasn’t acting, she decided. if he was, he should take up a job in broadway.

“y/n?”

her brows were furrowed. she’d never been confessed to as genuinely as this before.

if they started this type of relationship would he still be mean and insult her all the time?

“i-i need time. to figure this out.”

he doesn’t look disappointed, she thinks. instead he looks down at her with... adoration?

“of course, sweetness, anything, i’ll wait for you.”

she smiles, “thank you, freddie.”

☆

it’s been a few days since fred’s confessed to her. she’s still unsure if he was joking or not. why?

at this moment, she’s watching him giggle with angelina johnson. it seems like he’s forgotten everything and anything. he’s gotten closer to her. maybe he’s lost feelings for y/n? she can’t blame angie, she’s a wonderful girl. if he likes her, that’s fine too. suddenly her feelings for him become very clear. she like-likes him. and it’s a bit too late.

but maybe he doesn’t like angie in that way? maybe he’s still into her?

y/n knows molly weasley raises her children with patience. she should trust that fred’s waiting for her.

but then again, she’s never gonna be as special as angie johnson. she’s just a ever so polite and outgoing nerd. someone who’s foolish enough to prank. angie’s smart, confident and funny and terribly patient. and effortlessly beautiful. she’s got the true gryffindor touch. and angie’s been one of fred’s best friends since day one. she’s always gonna be number 1.

that’s ok. she’ll accept it. she likes angie anyway. it was probably a joke anyway.

she couldn’t be jealous, just a bit dismayed that it wasn’t genuine. whatever, she thinks. we can just go back to how we were before. or not.

and it’s relatively easy. they never really saw much of each other anyway. she’ll get over this tiny little liking.

it’ll just be like normal. none of this happened. none of it. she grimaces bitterly, damning fred for his stupid games. should’ve known this was another of his pranks. but his acting though, certainly very good.

she smiles to herself.

“knock it off, y/n, you’re here to learn, not to love.”

and that answer, is satisfactory.

she gets up from her spot on the gryffindor table rather abruptly, saying goodbye to her friends, and makes her way to the kitchens. she knows she won’t be alone, she’ll talk to hansel and gretel, the twins that cook with the house elves every dinner.

they’re cleaning up as she walks in, book in hand.

“hi hans, g!” she calls, as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweater to help them with the dishes.

“y/n!” gretel gives her a hug with soapy arms and y/n giggles.

“how are both of you?” y/n asks.

“good, good, potions though...” hansel trails off and they all laugh.

“potions is always like that,” y/n agrees, “it’s supposed to be really hard for newts, so you can’t really blame the subject.”

“i’m thinking of dropping divination,” gretel says.

“yeah, that’s wise, gretel buns,” hansel teases and gretel scowls.

“divination is an easy subject, gretel, you just need to make random stuff up. i saw this weird bear thing in polly’s tea leaves, it wasn’t in the textbook. i told trelawney it was a symbol that a stranger would come and whip polly off her feet, with a whip the colour of the rarest german emeralds, leaving her absolutely smitten. i got full marks,” y/n laughs.

they laugh too, and soon a light flowing conversation is shared over cups of hot chocolate.

this is repeated for quite a few days and y/n even invites polly, marla and lenox, her best friends, to join. it’s a delicate, nice kind of week, one that suits her current struggles.

when the weekends roll around, hansel and gretel suggest that they all sit at the hufflepuff table. they share jokes and quips over the food, y/n reading a book as she bites happily into apple pie.

“pfft,” her lips upturn ever so slightly at the quote that the character makes.

fred watches her from the gryffindor table, utterly confused. y/n’s been avoiding him. he sees the flashes of hurt that run through her eyes whenever she sees him, and the quick grin that’s far too fake that follows. she’s been reading a lot more and he never sees her anymore.

he wonders what he’s doing wrong. so as he sees her walking with her friends to hogsmeade, he calls for her.

“y/n!”

her friends giggle as they see him, but she gives him a fleeting glance and raises her eyebrows at them, shaking her head, before profusely apologising to each one of them.

she approaches him warily, with all practicality in mind. she leads with her heart, but her head protects her.

fool me once, shame on you.

fool me twice, shame on me.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he states.

“what would you expect?” she snaps, “isn’t this all a good laugh for you anyway?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you know what i mean, this was all a joke, wasn’t it? fooling my poor little heart which you know has a crush on you. my head simply won’t allow it. admit it, and we can both move on with our lives,” her tone is sharp and cold, her eyes burning with fury and hurt, “i may seem gullible, and i am,” she gave a short laugh, “but when i notice, don’t even try to lie.”

“this wasn’t a joke, love.”

“don’t call me that, and you and i both know it is. your acting though, absolutely superb!”

“what makes you think this was a prank, y/n? you were the one who asked for time.”

“yes, and the time made me realise that i had feelings for you despite all the teasing AND the fact you couldn’t possibly be genuine!” y/n says exasperatedly, her fury dissolving quickly, “you looked so in place with angie and everyone that it’s so obviously some sort of fun thing you did to try to get back at me!”

“angie?”

“a-and everyone else.”

“angie?” fred’s eyes were amused.

“you know, angelina, as in johnson.”

“angie?”

y/n shrugs, “you did bring her to the yule ball last year.”

“angie??!!!” fred was full on smirking now, as if trying to receive a real response.

“i think you like her, okay?! are we done here? i’d very much like a good book from f&b,” y/n sighs.

“i’ll accompany you to flourish and botts. why would you think i like her? didn’t i just confess to you?”

“yeah but it seemed kinda...” y/n trails off, not wanting her insecurities to come off as compliment fishing, “kinda far-fetched.”

“meaning?” fred knows exactly what she means.

“you know!”

“oh but i don’t,” he smiles innocently.

“well, you’re you!”

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he asks, faking a look of hurt rather well as y/n looks alarmed.

“no, no, as in, you’re nice to look at, and you’ve always insulted me and been so nice and cool to everyone. are you for real?”

“nice to look at?” a cocky grin is on his face now, much more noticeable than the slight blush that was creeping up his face.

“is that the only thing you could pick up?”

“nice to look at? what’s up with me repeating myself today?”

y/n lets out an agitated sigh. he doesn’t know, he’s blunt and straightforward. she likes cushioning her words.

“y’know, handsome? good looking?”

“my middle names.” another smirk to conceal the blushing.

y/n smiles. “of course, everyone knows it.”

it makes fred uncomfortable. her light tone is a bit menacing too.

“only joking.”

“i’m sure everyone does know it, darling.”

y/n is too busy looking at the dog that passes by to hear him, rambling quietly to herself over the cute scottish terrier.

“sorry, what was that?”

“aren’t i cuter than the dog?”

“nup.”

“really?” fred casually slings an arm over y/n’s shoulders, having to stoop a little lower to reach her.

“i think so.”

“well i’ll tell you something love, i think you’re absolutely stunning.”

“some love potion you’re on.”

“uh huh, the love potion is called love, sweetness.”

“so you’re for real?”

“as real as you and me.”

“you’re cheesy. this isn’t a prank right?”

“not at all, i love you.”

“i-i don’t think i love you just yet, but i think it’s possible,” y/n bites her lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

she tilts her head to look at him.

he’s beaming. he looks more handsome than ever, a sweet smile etched on his face as he looks down at her in utter adoration.

“you have a crush on me!” he pulls her into a hug and giggles like a little girl, kissing the top of her head.

she’s engulfed by the smell of burning wood and cinnamon and immediately feels safe in his strong arms.

“how’d you say we go on a date? so i can show how sorry i am for all the times i called you googly eyes and played pranks on you.”

“i’ll check to see if the girls are okay with it,” y/n replies, turning her head to see her friends. they’re gone.

“they are. i asked them to shoo off before i approached you. is that a yes?”

y/n nods, “of course, freddie.”

“i love you.”

she laughs, “you really are april’s fool.”

“i’m your april’s fool.”

he buries his nose in the crook of her neck to stop her from seeing his blushing red face.

#fredweasley #fred weasley x y/n #frederick weasley #fred weasley x reader #gryffindor #hansel and gretel #fanfic #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #angelina johnson #alicia spinnet #y/n #harrypotter #hogsmeade

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